


Atmosphere

by momentsintimex



Series: Atmosphere [1]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anxiety, Depression, F/M, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Gen, Healing Content, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lots of healing, everyone is trying, sibling relationships, they're not always successful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-01-25 03:39:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 120,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12522144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momentsintimex/pseuds/momentsintimex
Summary: There's a bag of pills in Connor Murphy's backpack alongside a pocket knife. The orchard overlooks the rolling hills and barren roads of his hometown, and for a moment he takes in the view one final time while sat against an old tree where the Murphy's used to have picnics when he was much younger. He breathes in, trying to remember every last minute of his life on Earth.He's not expecting his sister's boyfriend to save his life, or for people to care after he survives his third suicide attempt.ORConnor Murphy survives a suicide attempt at the abandoned orchard. There's healing, heartache and pain, but he learns that he's never alone, even when it feels like he's never going to get any better.





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry about the summary, i'm actually the worst at them and that's the best i could come up with :)
> 
> title of the fic is a song by Joy Division. I don't own any of the DEH characters, obviously. bits and pieces are taken from the musical, but most is my own!
> 
> any TWs will be posted at the beginning of the chapters! 
> 
> (TW: mentions of suicide attempt, description of suicide attempt, blood)

Connor Murphy thinks today is as good of a day as any to kill himself. It’s a warm Fall afternoon, the school year has just started and the buzz around their small town is slowing down as people slowly start to settle into a routine. 

Connor felt like he was in anything but a routine, except for the one that had him going through the motions of school and planning how he was going to end his life on the most perfect day of the year in his opinion.

During lunch hour Connor finds himself sitting underneath the large oak tree out front of the school. His notepad sits on his lap with nothing but scribbles and drawings lining the margins. He’s thought about writing a suicide note, what he would say in it to apologize to whoever finds him. He can’t bring himself to write anything in the end, because he convinces himself that the only person who really cares is his mother.

He and Zoe had been at odds for years now. It’s his fault, really, just like everything else is. If he had just been able to control his anger, or maybe stop telling his sister he wanted to kill her so often she would’ve been on his side and she would’ve wanted to help him. But now their days are spent avoiding each other at all costs, Connor usually lashing out at her over dinner when she makes a snide remark.

Connor can’t remember when he and Larry had ever had a civil relationship. If he had to pinpoint it, he guesses it may have all started to change when the decision to quit baseball happened when he was 10. Larry had been clinging onto the sport for as long as possible, but Connor had found his voice and how to express what he wants, and so he’s defiant on quitting baseball. Since then Larry has always found something to resent Connor for, even when he wasn’t intentionally doing anything wrong.

Cynthia had been his saving grace growing up. She had been the one to take him to endless doctors appointments, the one to find him therapists who would listen to him and not write him off as an angsty teenager who didn’t need help. Her efforts don’t go unnoticed by Connor, but he still can’t seem to find the words to say to her that don’t end with him sounding ungrateful or like a burden.

The only person outside of his family who seems to give him the time of day is Evan. But he’s dating Zoe, and often times when the two of them see each other they don’t say anything in fear that Zoe will think Connor is going to freak out at something Evan says or does. She resorts to hiding him away, or avoiding bringing him over at all when she knows Connor is home.

In all honesty he doesn’t mind Evan. He seems nice, despite the crippling anxiety and slight oddness that he gives off when he’s around. Connor thinks he’d probably eat lunch with him and be friends with him if he wasn’t constantly with Zoe and their other friends, and so instead he often sits outside and lets the fresh air calm him down from the chaos going on inside his mind.

One of the teachers at lunch steps outside to let everyone know to come in, but Connor doesn’t want to move. He hadn’t written anything down on his notepad, and decides that ultimately he doesn’t want to leave a note for anyone to find. He thinks they’ll understand why he did what he did when they find him, and they won’t even care what he has to say. It’s not like this is the first time this has happened.

He catches a glimpse of Zoe and Evan walking hand in hand out of the lunch room towards their next class and frowns. He walks the opposite direction, forcing himself through the rest of the school day before he can finally leave, and the pain he’s feeling will finally all be gone.

—

Zoe has jazz band practice after school, meaning Connor is left to find his own way home now that his car keys had been confiscated by Larry for a night of sneaking out and partying over the summer. Most days he takes the bus, but today he decides it’s a good day to lie and say he's walking home, Cynthia having no protests when it’s a gorgeous day and Connor is asking to be outside.

Connor has no intentions of walking home, however, and as he walks down the barren streets of upstate New York with his backpack on his back, his mind races with what he’s about to do. He’s had it planned out for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment to put it all into action.

There’s an orchard on the other side of town from the Murphy’s house, the same one that they had spent most of their childhood going to for picnics. It’s since closed down, but Connor visits as often as possible to let himself breathe and get away from the chaos. He thinks it’s the most perfect place to spend his last few minutes, underneath the apple trees that he had spent so many hours writing journal entries and sobbing until he couldn’t breathe on days where everything was just too much.

There’s a larger, more established tree at the base of the orchard trees. Connor thinks it must’ve been there for at least 50 years, if not more. It’s the perfect climbing tree, and he remembers hoisting Zoe up when they were just barely able to reach the first branch, the two of them climbing until Cynthia yells at them to come back down.

Shaking the memory out of his mind, Connor drops his bag by one of the large overgrown roots and sits down next to it, his back resting against the trunk. He looks around at his surroundings, the rolling hills filled with apple trees that hadn’t been tended to in years serving as his view. He can see for miles, the rolling farmlands and barren roads providing the last landscape that he’ll see while he’s alive.

His hands fumble with the zipper on the front of his backpack, pulling out the small bag of pills he had stashed in there for a few days now and a pocket knife. He had bought the pills off one of the notable drug dealers of the school on the first day, shoving them in his bag for later when he knew he could take them all at once.

Having never been able to swallow pills dry he grabs his water bottle from the side pocket, his fingers shaking as he pulls the small blade out of the pocket knife. He doesn’t know if he has enough pills to make this work, so he figures cutting himself wouldn’t hurt to make sure that he’s successful. He doesn’t want someone to find him and save him like they had before, he wants to have this be successful so that he doesn’t have to burden anyone else with his issues any longer.

Rolling up the sleeves to his hoodie Connor takes a deep breath, bringing his shaky hand to his wrist. He really doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he sees the faint scars from years ago and knows that they hadn’t been enough. He needed to do more, needed to do them deeper to ensure that it works.

He sucks in a sharp breath at the first press of the blade, blood seeping from the new cut. It stings more than anything, but he moves over to make another one identical to the first one, the pain searing now. He continues until he’s crying, angry hot tears trailing down his face as the blood pours out now at an alarming rate, scaring Connor himself.

He can feel himself getting weaker, the blade dropping from his hand and into the dirt as he reaches for the bag of pills. He pours as many as he can manage to pour in his hand into his mouth, wincing as he swallows them, taking exaggerated breaths. His vision is getting hazy now, the trees in front of him doubling and swaying back and forth as he blinks rapidly to try to make everything clear.

He feels closer than ever now, his breathing slowing and the dizziness setting in. His water bottle falls from his hands, spilling on the dirt beside him as his head falls back, his eyes closing.

The pain throughout his whole body is overwhelming, and breathing is getting harder. He forces his eyes open, taking in his world one more time while he’s alive. He sucks in one more deep breath, letting his head fall back against the trunk one more time, his eyes slipping closed once more.

He doesn’t hear the footsteps getting closer, or the gasp emitted from the person who comes into view.

“Connor?”


	2. two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where the Murphy's and Evan spend a lot of time waiting and worrying.
> 
> TW: descriptions of suicide, blood

On the afternoons Zoe has jazz band Evan likes to go to the abandoned orchard down the street from his house to work on his letters for therapy. He finds more inspiration there than anywhere else, where there’s no distractions and he’s able to focus on what he wants to say in the letters that he’s pretty sure aren’t even helping.

He treks through the overgrown trail of the orchard, up towards the picnic tables that have been there for as long as he can remember. He takes a moment to breathe in the fresh air and how peaceful everything feels. He thinks this might be one of his favorite feelings ever, and makes it a note to have this more often than just a few times a week. He thinks about bringing Zoe one time, too.

As he nears the tall trees lining the beginning of the orchard he swears he can hear heavy breathing, knitting his eyebrows in concern as he takes shaky steps closer. In the months since he’s discovered this place to write he’s ever encountered anyone else there, which makes sense since he thinks he was maybe 11 when the orchard closed for the final time.

He’s certain there’s someone else there at this point, and as he closes his eyes and tries to will away the panic attack, he takes one large step forward around the tree. Opening his eyes he gasps in shock at the boy sitting in front of him, blood falling at a rapid pace from his arm and a water bottle abandoned on the ground next to him. Evan can see a small baggie that’s left with only two pills, and he begins to panic.

“Connor?” He says quietly, not expecting the boy to answer. Instead Connor just breathes deeply, erratic and choking coming from him as he seems to be going limper in front of Evan’s eyes.

The panic seeps in, and Evan fumbles for his back pocket where his phone is to dial 911. He needs to tell Zoe, but right now he needs to get Connor help before it’s too late. Connor’s dying, and that needs to be addressed before telling any of the Murphy’s what he had stumbled upon in the orchard that afternoon.

The 911 operator has Evan stay on the line while they wait for the medics, worried that something was happening to him too. Evan can’t stop the panic attack now, his breathing quickening as he forces himself to bend down to Connor’s height, hitting his cheek lightly.

“Connor, stay with me,” He mumbles, his voice shaky and his vision blurring as the anxiety riddles through his body. “Don’t fall asleep, Connor. Help is coming, but I need you to stay awake.”

Evan drops his backpack and shrugs his jacket off, his stomach turning as he reaches forward to press it to Connor’s arm. He can’t tell how many cuts there are, and he doesn’t know how long ago this happened or how much blood he’s lost. All he knows is that he needs to get it to stop if he doesn’t want Connor to bleed out, although that’s proving to be harder than he thought it would be.

The sirens in the distance get closer, and the 911 operator hangs up when she gets a notification that they’ve arrived. Evan can hear commotion behind him but can’t force his eyes away from Connor’s face, watching his chest rise and fall erratically and slower with each passing moment. He’s worried Connor is going to stop breathing in front of his eyes, and although his mother had taught him CPR in middle school, he isn’t sure he’d remember how to do it now, not in this moment.

There are medics around them now, and one ushers Evan away so they can get to Connor. Evan takes shaky steps around the tree, grabbing his phone again and scrolling to Zoe’s contact, hitting dial. He hadn’t bothered to look at the time to see if jazz band was over, he just needed to get a hold of her now before it was too late.

It rings 5 times, and right when Evan is about to give up and hang up to dial again, he hears Zoe’s voice on the other line. “Babe? Is everything okay? You know I’m at jazz band, right?” She says so calmly that Evan doesn’t want to ruin her afternoon.

“I um, I’m fine,” He stutters, kicking the grass underneath his foot as he takes a deep breath. “I uh, Connor tried to kill himself. I just found him passed out in the park. Zoe, it’s so bad. You need to call your parents and get to the hospital.”

Zoe mumbles something unintelligible, leaving Evan with a quick love you before the line goes dead.

Evan hastily rubs at his eyes, looking up to the sky and praying that somehow this is just a nightmare that he can’t wake up from.

—

The medics let Evan ride in the ambulance with Connor, assuming that the two of them were friends. Evan has to mask his own anxiety attack as he watches the medics frantically work on his girlfriend’s brother, watching them use a bag to breathe for Connor while another works on bandaging his wrist.

“Do you know how long he was there when you found him?” The woman asks as she takes Connor’s vitals for what feels like the thousandth time that journey, Evan just quickly shaking his head. He’s too scared to talk, worried that the only thing that would come out is unintelligible words and probably vomit. 

The medic doesn’t seem to mind, instead turning back to Connor who lays lifeless on the gurney, tending to him as his vitals seem to dip again.

Evan doesn’t move from the bench when they pull into the hospital, letting the medics out first as the whisk Connor away. There’s a nurse that Evan thinks he recognizes who meets him in the emergency room bay, smiling as she takes his arm, ushering him to the waiting room. “We should have news on your friend soon. For now feel free to take a seat. Do you need anything?” She asks, although Evan only shakes his head.

There’s a few other people in the waiting room, Evan feeling their eyes on him as he sinks down into an uncomfortable plush chair in the corner of the room. He turns in on himself, closing his eyes as he tries to remember the breathing practice his therapist had given him to get his breathing back on track. His mind can’t find it, and so instead he just breathes deeply, praying that helps.

“Evan!” He’s pulled out of his trance to find Zoe and her parents running towards him, Cynthia looking frantic as she walks up to the front desk to ask for information about her son. Evan forces himself to stand up, just barely able to brace himself as Zoe falls into his arms, burying her face against his shoulder. 

He holds her, rubbing her back when he feels her tears hit his shirt. They had been dating for months but he had never seen her cry, and he wasn’t sure how to comfort her. “I’m so sorry you found him like that,” Zoe finally says shakily, pulling her face from his shoulder as her hands rest against his arm. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you or anything?”

Evan swallows the lump in his throat as he shakes his head. “N-no. He was um, he was almost passed out when I found him,” Evan says, closing his eyes tightly as he tries to will away the panic once more. He doesn’t think any of the Murphy’s are ready to hear how Connor looked, but all Evan sees when he thinks about it is Connor slumped against the tree, his chest rising and falling minimally with blue lips and blood seeping from his arm. He doesn’t think he’ll ever rid himself of the image.

Zoe can tell his breathing has become unsteady, guiding him to sit down in the chair. “Babe, look at me,” Zoe says, and her voice is so calm and so even that Evan manages to listen. “You’re okay, I’m right here. You’re fine,” She whispers so they don’t draw attention to themselves, Evan nodding as he holds onto her hands.

Cynthia and Larry walk over to where the two teens are sat, Cynthia surveying the situation. Evan forces himself to look over at her, and that alone seems like enough for Cynthia to let her know that he’s as good as he’s going to get in that moment.

“Connor’s being stabilized, and then he’s being brought up to surgery,” Cynthia says, dabbing under her eyes with a tissue that had been wadded in her hand. Her head falls as she struggles to relay the information to her daughter and the boy she had been dating, and Larry seems to be able to sense that.

“The nurse at the desk doesn’t know when we’ll be able to see him, nor do they know if he’s um, if he’s going to survive,” Larry says, Cynthia weeping as she falls into her husband’s side. “They don’t know if you got there in time, Evan, but they said that you did everything right. Trying to get him to stay awake, putting pressure on his wounds,” Larry continues, nodding quickly. 

Evan doesn’t feel like he did enough. Now that things have settled down slightly, Evan wonders what would’ve happened if he wouldn’t have stopped walking when he heard breathing. He wonders if that extra minute would’ve made things different, if Connor would’ve been more stable if he had just ran to where he heard the breathing.

He thinks about what would’ve been if he hadn’t taken the long way to the orchard. It had been such a gorgeous day, and with time to waste Evan decided to walk the long way, maximizing his time outdoors. It had made him feel alive, always centering him and calming him down when things seemed to be too overwhelming. Those extra 5 or 10 minutes could mean life or death for Connor, and while Evan hadn’t known what he was going to stumble upon, he does know that he never takes the long way until today.

“Did you tell your mom where you are?” Zoe asks quietly as she reaches over for Evan’s hand, Evan looking up and shaking his head.

In the chaos of what his afternoon had become he hadn’t texted his mother, not that he thinks it matters anyway. She worked at the hospital Connor was in, and with any luck she’d see the Murphy file come across and she’d put the pieces together.

He pulls his phone out anyway, scrolling to his mom’s text messages, his fingers fumbling along the screen.

I’m at the hospital with the Murphy’s. Connor overdosed in the orchard. I’ll let you know when I’m coming home. Love you.

It takes three minutes before his phone is vibrating in his hand, Heidi calling him frantically.

“Connor Murphy? Evan, what hospital are you at? Are you okay?” She asks a million questions without saying hello, and Evan finds it hard to take a deep breath as he stands up and walks away from the Murphy’s just outside the emergency room door.

“Yeah, Connor Murphy,” He begins, leaning against the brick wall, nurses and patients walking in and out of the automatic doors. “We’re at your hospital, Mercy. I’m um, I’m okay,” He mumbles, hearing the commotion on the other end of the line when he says that.

Evan listens to the shuffling for a few moments, closing his eyes as he stills his breathing. There’s a doctor that looks like he’s going to stop and ask Evan is okay, but Evan musters up the best smile possible, and the doctor only returns it and continues out of the hospital.

“I’m on my way down to the ER. I have a break right now, I’ll see if I can find anything out,” She says frantically, hanging up the phone before Evan has a chance to say anything else.

He walks back into the emergency room, Zoe looking back at him with the saddest eyes he’s ever seen from her, letting him sink back into his seat. “Who was it?” She asks, although she really knows it’s none of her business. 

“My mom,” He breathes, his head falling back against the grainy wallpaper lining the waiting room. It’s all outdated, he decides, but he also figures no one is spending their time redesigning emergency room waiting rooms. “She’s on her break so she’s coming down here to see us. She said she’ll try to find anything she can about Connor.”

The words seem to perk Cynthia up, looking over at the two teens with the slightest glimmer of hope. It makes Evan’s heart hurt, really, because from what Zoe’s said Cynthia had been trying to be a good mom and get her son help.

“Your mom is working today, Evan?” She asks, Evan nodding quickly. He tries to think of something in reply, but is saved by his mother turning the corner into the waiting room, a tired smile on her face.

“I’m so sorry.” Is all she says, which Evan thinks sounds a little impolite given the circumstances they’re in. Cynthia doesn’t seem to mind, and in an instant she’s standing up, hugging the woman she’s only met a handful of times. “I tried to see if there was any sheet that I could find with information, but all they have is that he’s in one of the OR rooms for emergency surgery, and there’s no set end time.”

Cynthia shakes her head, gripping Heidi’s hand as they both sit down in the chairs. “Thank you for coming down and for checking anyway. You really didn’t have to do that,” She insists, Heidi shaking her head.

“Zoe is such a sweetheart, and I have no doubt that Connor would be the same. It’s the least I could do,” She says, Cynthia nodding. “When he’s out of surgery and we know more I’ll be able to see if he’s in my ward.”

“That would be perfect,” Cynthia whispers, nudging her husband for a response. Larry only mutters something under his breath, Cynthia rolling her eyes as she leans back against the back cushion, her hand still holding Heidi’s.

—

Heidi’s break comes and goes without a word from the doctors, although she’s been told to bring them upstairs to a new waiting room just outside of the operating suite. “Let me know if you need anything at all, Evan has my number and he can text me. I’ll check it in between patients,” Heidi says, hugging Cynthia once more before she disappears back to work.

The group takes in their new surroundings. The surgical waiting room is much smaller, with a lot less room to spread out when you feel like you need it most. There’s an older man in the corner reading a book, and a woman who looks to be in her 40’s watching the news endlessly as if it’s going to change when she looks away.

Evan can’t seem to focus on anything, but Zoe’s hand is in his and that makes him feel like this is all too real. There’s no escaping the nightmare they’re in, and there’s still no certainty that Connor is going to make it out of this alive. Evan wonders if that’s the most agonizing part, knowing that they’ve been waiting for hours without knowing if this is even going to bring good news.

“Parents of Connor Murphy?” The sudden voice in the room makes everyone jump, Larry and Cynthia looking over towards the doctor as they stand up.

Evan takes a look at him as well, exhaustion written all over his face as his mask hangs around his chin. There’s blood on his scrubs, and Evan’s stomach turns at the thought that it could be Connor’s blood. 

Without a word Larry and Cynthia follow the doctor down to his office, leaving just Zoe and Evan in the waiting room together with the two strangers. Evan hears Zoe take a deep breath, shifting her attention to him after his forces his gaze away from the door.

“You okay?” He asks, which is silly, honestly. He knows she isn’t, even if she and Connor aren’t the closest siblings in the world.

Zoe lets go of Evan’s hand, rubbing it against her jeans as she shrugs. “I don’t know how to feel,” She admits, her eyes fixated on the painting of an ocean on the opposite wall. “I don’t want him to feel like he has to die to be happy, but he’s just been so awful to me and everyone else,” She mumbles, keeping her voice low so the other people can’t hear her.

“I-It’s okay to be scared for him,” Evan says, his hand hovering to take hers before he pulls back. “I mean, he’s your brother. You two used to be close, from what you said, right?” He asks quickly, waiting for Zoe to nod. “Maybe um, maybe this is a second chance at you two being close again.”

“If he lives.” Zoe’s words are blunt, making Evan cringe despite knowing that she’s right.

“Y-yeah, if he lives,” Evan mumbles, trailing off as he tries not to let his mind wander to the worst possible scenario.

Silence falls between the two of them, and Evan really doesn’t think he helped Zoe at all. Her head falls against his shoulder, and so he thinks it must be okay if she’s not refusing to touch him.

The couple hear Larry’s dress shoes tap against the linoleum floors as he walks back into the waiting room. Cynthia is no longer with him, and Zoe and Evan can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

They watch him sit down across from them, leaning forward as his hands clasp together in front of him. There’s no emotion on his face for Zoe and Evan to read, not that Zoe is surprised. She can’t remember the last emotion her father had towards Connor besides anger.

His lips are pursed in a thin line, and his head falls for a moment to compose himself.

“Dr. Nichols thinks Connor is going to survive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all the love on the first chapter! chapters will be around this long from here on out! i think i'm going to try to update twice a week now, a week between posts felt like forever to me for some reason and i feel like i've written far enough ahead that i won't lack updates to be able to post twice a week :)
> 
> i've made a tumblr, you can come talk to me on for-f0rever if you want! i literally made it last night so there's like nothing on it, but i will be active on it if you want to follow :)


	3. three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where there's a lot of worrying, a lot of built up anger, and a whole ton of emotions.
> 
> TW: mentions of the suicide

“He lost a lot of blood, but Evan, the doctor said that you got there just in time. A few more minutes and there wouldn’t have been enough blood in the world to save him.” Evan shudders at the thought, but somehow manages to nod at Mr. Murphy’s words.

“They’re not sure what the pills have done to him. Right now it looks like he may have some kidney or liver issues, but they don't think it’s permanent. It could be hours, it could be days. Now we play the waiting game,” He finishes, both teenagers nodding. “Your mother is going to spend the night with him, but Zoe you and I are going to go home after we see him for a few minutes. We can’t stay long.”

Zoe nods, standing up from her chair and turning towards Evan. “Thank you for sitting with me, and for um, for finding him,” She whispers, her arms wrapping around his neck as she buries her head against his shoulder. Evan’s startled for a moment, but holds her against him as his hands shake slightly.

“You can um, you can call me if you need me,” He says, Zoe nodding as she leans up to kiss him softly. 

“You have a ride home?” She asks, pulling back and wiping under her eyes. She looks exhausted, and Evan can’t help but wonder how much of a toll this is going to take on her.

He nods quickly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “My mom’s shift is over in a few minutes. I’ll just go home with her,” He says, Zoe nodding.

“Okay,” She whispers, taking a step forward. Her fingers ghost over his cheek, forcing him to look at her. She tries to smile as best as she can, but she looks more tired and stressed than anything, but Evan knows she’s trying.

She leans up, kissing him softly again. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” She says, Evan nodding quickly. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” He replies, watching her turn to walk down the hall with Larry and a nurse.

Evan sinks back into the chair he had been in previously, tapping his foot anxiously on the carpeted floors as he waits for his mom to finish her shift. There’s so many thoughts running through his mind, but none of them seem to convey the anxiousness and worry that fills him in ways he never thought it would when it came to Connor Murphy.

—

Zoe’s Converse tap against the linoleum tile as she trails behind her dad quite a bit, taking in the scenery. 

It’s a lot like what she had expected — cold walls and rooms, nurses and doctors shuffling around not looking overly concerned about anything. There’s some patients being wheeled on their beds or in wheelchairs, some smiling at Zoe on their way by.

She can’t imagine it’s just to be nice. She’s fully aware she looks a mess.

“He probably won't wake up in the next few minutes, but there’s a strong chance he can hear you. It might be nice to say some encouraging words. We have to let you in one at a time,” The nurse explains, and Larry offers to go first.

Zoe sinks down to sit on the floor next to where her mother is standing, constantly dabbing at her eyes with a tissue that is now covered in makeup.

“He’s going to be fine, sweetheart,” Cynthia mumbles. Zoe thinks she’s trying to convince herself more than anything. 

She nods anyway, knowing her mom needs it. “I know.”

—

Larry stands at the end of his son’s bed, taking in his features. It’s not the first time he’s seen him like this, but it’s the first time he feels affected by it.

He knows that makes him a bad father.

“We’re here, son,” He says, awkwardly patting Connor’s leg when he moves to his side. “You’re going to be just fine, we’re getting you all the help you need.”

He wonders if this whole scenario will ever stop feeling like a horror movie.

“Your mom is going to spend the night with you, and Zoe and I will be back tomorrow. Keep fighting, my boy. It’s going to be okay.”

The I love you lingers on his tongue, wanting to be said. Somehow he doesn’t think they’re there yet.

He leaves without saying it, turning to his daughter when he walks out from behind the curtain.

“You can have a few minutes with him before we have to go,” He says, but Zoe already knows.

“Mom went with Dr. Nichols to look at Connor’s lab tests or something, I don’t know. She said we can leave when I come out, it’ll probably be a while before she’s back,” Zoe says, pulling herself up from the ground and brushing past her father.

She opens the curtain to her brother’s small recovery room without a second thought, but immediately regrets it.

That’s her brother. And he’s lifeless in a hospital bed.

Her legs drag across the floor, her shoes squeaking against the tile. She hesitates before reaching out, her hand resting on top of his. It’s…weird. For them, at least. They’re not usually like this.

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” She whispers, her eyes blurring with tears as she looks up to the sky. “God, Connor. How could you do this?”

Her voice shakes. She tries to will herself to stop the tears, but they begin falling without warning and she knows there’s nothing she can do. So she lets them fall, not bothering to wipe them away.

“You’re going to get better,” She breathes out, using her free hand to rub at her eyes. “I need you to get better because I can’t fucking do this alone. I can’t be the only kid in this family, Connor. God.” Another deep breath. “I don’t care if I have to fist fight Dad, you’re getting the fucking help you need. You don’t get to keep putting me — putting us through this. We need you.”

She knows she’s being selfish. She can’t help it.

She hates that Connor doesn’t answer her. That his monitors just beep in reply.

“I need you,” She whispers weakly, rubbing at her eyes once more.

She leans over to kiss his cheek. No one has to know.

—

The ride home with Heidi and Evan is quiet, Evan staring out the window for most of the journey. They pass by the orchard and Evan squeezes his eyes shut, trying to rid his mind of everything that had happened there just hours before. He’s fairly sure some of Connor’s things got left there in the shuffle, but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to bring himself to ever go get them or look to see if they’re there.

They arrive home without anything being said, and Heidi makes her way into the kitchen in search of soup in the pantry to make for dinner. Evan slumps into the kitchen after her, setting his bag down by the back door as he turns back to look at her.

“Why don’t you go get changed into your pajamas? I’ll finish making dinner for the two of us and we can sit down and eat,” Heidi says softly, Evan nodding as he trails up the steps, returning a few minutes later in his pajamas.

There’s no words between the two of them, but Heidi knows they need to talk. She can’t imagine what her son is going through, and she doesn’t even know the whole story behind what had happened. She wants to figure out the right way to confront Evan about it, but nothing seems to come to mind. She can’t remember ever learning about how to handle this when she became a mother 17 years ago.

They sit down at the table with their soup, Evan twirling his around the noodles. He doesn’t have much of an appetite, but he doesn’t want his mother to worry, and so he forces himself to eat a little bit. He can feel Heidi’s eyes on him, watching him carefully as he continues to eat, staring into the bowl.

“We need to talk about what happened, sweetheart,” Heidi says, breaking the silence for the first time since her shift had ended.

Evan only sighs, taking another bite of soup and shrugging uncomfortably. He doesn’t move to say anything, and Heidi knows she’s going to have to carry the conversation. “Evan, honey, were you the one that found him?”

Evan sucks in a sharp breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he nods quickly. Heidi sighs, and Evan hears her spoon hit the side of the bowl. “Evan, honey, please talk to me,” She pleads, but Evan doesn’t know what to say. It’s not every day that you find your girlfriend’s brother after a suicide attempt.

“He was just so…um…so lifeless?” Evan finally says quietly after a few moments. He doesn’t take another bite of soup, but he can’t force himself to look up. “He was…he was awake but like? I don’t think he um, I don’t think he knew I was there. Or at least he won’t remember,” He continues, shaking his head.

“There was uh, there was so much blood on his arm. I…I didn’t know what to do.”

Heidi reaches out, resting her hand against his arm. He jumps at the contact, goosebumps settling on his skin. “You did the right thing, sweetheart. He’s alive because of you,” She says, but Evan only shakes his head. All he can think about is everything he didn’t do, and how this can’t be why he’s still alive.

“All I did was hold my jacket to his arm and call 911. H-How did I save him?” Evan asks, finally looking up at his mom. His eyes are glassy and his face is paling, and Heidi can tell he’s on the brink of an anxiety attack.

She reaches over, her hands firmly on his arms as she tries to center him. “You holding your sweater to his arm stopped him from losing so much blood. You calling 911 when you did got him help faster. You saved him, Evan, even if you don’t think you did enough.”

Evan shakes his head quickly, his body heaving as he struggles to take a deep breath. “But…I walked the long way to the orchard that day and I heard him breathing and I just stopped walking. I didn’t do anything else, I just stopped walking to where I could hear him. I could’ve gotten there faster. I um, I could’ve saved him? I could’ve just walked the normal way and maybe gotten to him before he did all this.” Evan’s in a full blown panic now, his words flying into the air at a million miles a minute.

Heidi stands up from her chair, bending down in front of Evan. “Evan, breathe. Look at me, sweetheart, take a deep breath,” She says calmly, Evan forcing his eyes open to look at his mother. He can’t seem to calm down, can’t seem to regulate his breathing or focus on anything in the room.

“Breathe in for five with me,” Heidi says, counting to five slowly before reminding him to breathe out for five. Evan struggles for a moment before finally getting the hang of it, Heidi slowing her breathing until her son begins to calm down. She reaches up to run her fingers through his hair, her thumb resting against his cheek. “You’re okay,” She soothes, Evan nodding quickly.

“Today has been a lot,” She says when Evan’s calmed down, waiting until he answers before she stands up and takes their bowls to the sink. “I’ll make us some tea and you and I can watch a movie. I don’t think you need to go to school tomorrow,” Heidi decides, Evan nodding as he stands up from the table himself.

His legs feel shaky underneath him, and without a word he moves into the living room to sit on the sofa, leaving the TV off. It feels like hours before Heidi walks in with two cups of tea, turning on the TV herself and finding a movie for them to watch until both of them feel like they can sleep.

Evan doesn’t think sleep is ever going to come for him that night, at least not when every time he closes his eyes he sees Connor slumped against the tree.

—

Zoe spends her car ride home wondering what she’s going to say to her father when they walk into their home together. Riding separately may have been good for them in that moment, giving Zoe a chance to clear her head and think about things.

She has so many emotions, so many feelings running through her mind that she doesn’t know where to begin. She cried over her brother for the first time in years, she was angry with him for feeling like he needed to resort to this instead of trying to talk to their parents again, or at least try to talk to their mom to ask for new help. She was happy that he had survived, sure, but the happiness she feels that he lived doesn’t overtake any other emotion she has running through her.

The one thing she finds odd about the whole thing is how Larry has reacted to it all. Since they had met Zoe in the hospital parking lot in a panic, she hadn’t remembered seeing him cry once. He hadn’t shown any emotion at all in fact, but instead he remained stoic, the one that seemed to be holding the family together. Zoe doesn’t know how to feel about that, but she can't help but wonder if the reason why he had no emotion is because of how he and Connor had gotten along over the last few years. She finds it to be a sorry excuse if that’s why he hasn’t shown emotion, because Connor is his son, and there’s still a very real chance they could lose him.

Zoe arrives home after her father, shutting off the car in the driveway and letting her head hit the steering wheel. She breathes for a moment, centering herself in the moment. A very real moment that she can’t seem to wrap her mind around. She knows when she gets in her father will probably be in the kitchen, trying to find something to eat for the two of them. It’s nearing 8 in the evening now and Zoe hasn’t eaten since lunch, but she doesn’t have an appetite either. 

Finally finding the courage Zoe forces herself out of the car, grabbing her bag from the back seat and walking up the front walk. There are neighbors out bringing their trash down to the curb, and normally she’d say hello or smile at them, but tonight she keeps her head down and walks inside. She doesn’t think they need to know what’s going on.

Zoe hears music playing from the kitchen as she shuts the front door, dropping her bag by the front entryway. She wants to be mad, but the music provides some sort of odd distraction that she think they both need. Her shoes lay abandoned by her bag, and slowly she forces herself to walk into the kitchen, finding her father moving to make them something to eat.

“Why are you acting like your son isn’t in the hospital fighting for his life?” Zoe asks, and it’s not exactly what she had wanted to say to him when they first got home. She’s too tired for confrontation, but she feels like it’s coming faster than ever now.

Larry turns around, and Zoe’s fully expecting him to yell at her, telling her to stop and that they’re not having this discussion. He doesn’t though, and Zoe finds herself more terrified than ever.

“Do you really think I’m not scared that my son is fighting for his life?” He asks, no malice behind his words. Zoe shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Do you really think that I don’t want to be there with him, to stay him and prove to myself that he’s okay?”

“You’re not acting like it,” Zoe mutters, hearing her father take a deep breath, his body leaning back against the counter.

“I don’t know how you want me to act like it, Zoe. I’m trying to hold it together for you and your mother. To prove to you guys that this is all going to be okay, that somehow we’re going to get through this as a family. Your brother obviously needs help, but maybe we’re in too deep, maybe we’re in over our heads.”

Zoe feels the tears begin again, but this time she doesn’t try to stop them. “The only reason we’re in this situation is because you refused to acknowledge that Connor was messed up,” She says evenly, the anger laced through her words. “You’ve been saying for years that he was doing this for attention. None of this was for attention, none of it.”

“Do you remember there were nights where he told me he wanted to kill me? That certainly wasn’t for attention, but all you did was yell at him. That didn’t make it any better,” She says, forcing herself to look up at her father. “So forgive me if I thought you’d be upset or distraught over the fact that your son thought the only way he could get better was to kill himself!” She yells, scrubbing at her eyes furiously.

“Zoe!” Larry yells, Zoe jumping as he slams his hand against the counter. He takes a deep breath, staring at the ground. “Just…go to your room.”

Zoe turns on her heels without saying another word, slamming her bedroom door behind her. She cries until she falls asleep, curled on top of the comforter as the wind blows through her open bedroom window.

—

Cynthia follows Dr. Nichols down the hallway after going over his results, on her way to Connor’s recovery room. The halls are quiet, nurses walking back and forth, in and out from behind curtains where patients lay recovering from all kinds of surgery.

“He’ll be in recovery for at least an hour, maybe more depending on how he does with his vitals. Overdose patients are not typically good at holding steady vitals, so we’re not sure how he’ll do,” Dr. Nichols says, turning back to wait for Cynthia to catch up. “He’ll be in the ICU tonight, but if all goes well he’ll be moved to a regular ward tomorrow, where he’ll undergo a psychiatric evaluation with our team.” Cynthia nods, pushing her bag further up her shoulder. It’s a lot for Cynthia to process, but she keeps reminding herself that Connor is alive, and that’s the biggest blessing that there was.

They stop just outside a curtain in the middle of the recovery suite, Dr. Nichols tucking the file in his hands underneath his arm as he turns back towards Cynthia. “He’s on oxygen for now, and probably will be through the night. It’s been touch and go with his breathing, and I’m not ruling out intubating him again if breathing gets too hard,” He says quietly, nodding towards the curtain the Cynthia knew her son was behind.

She thanks him quietly, composing herself for a moment before she pushes back the curtain, gasping at the sight before her.

She knows it’s a cliche, but the boy in that bed does not look like her Connor. He’s pale, his features sunken in. The oxygen mask takes up most of his face, and the hospital gown they had changed him into hangs off of his body, making room for the monitors attached to his chest. There’s an IV in his arm, but perhaps the most shocking thing is the giant bandage on his left arm, where she knows he had cut himself multiple times.

She feels sick looking at him, forcing herself to take steps to be at his side. She leans against the bed for support, taking a deep breath as she slowly reaches forward, her hand running across his forehead and through his hair. “Oh, Connor,” She whispers, tears falling again as she looks at her son the first time.

She doesn’t try to stop them, instead leaning forward and kissing his cheek softly. It’s warm, and she can feel his breathing through the mask against her own skin. It’s the only comfort she has in all of this, knowing that he’s breathing on his own, that he’s as stable as he possibly can be and his only way out hadn’t worked.

Cynthia knows this is a new beginning for all of them, and while it’s still very touch and go with her little boy, she vows to herself that this is the beginning of her getting him all the help he needs to get better.

“Everything is going to be okay, sweetheart,” She whispers, her hands running through his hair again. Her tears are salty against her lips, and she swallows the lump in her throat. “We’re going to get you help, and everything is going to be fine.”

She’s not surprised when Connor doesn’t reply, but she takes his hand in hers anyway, holding it gently and memorizing the way his rough skin feels against hers. She wants nothing more than to scoop him up and bring him home, shielding him from everything that’s ever hurt him.

Truthfully, she’s never felt more like a failure. This isn’t the first time they’ve been in this situation, but it’s the most serious one. Connor had never had to be rushed into emergency surgery after one his attempts, but this time just felt different.

She knew that meant he had been closer than ever before this time around. She has to swallow the uneasiness when she thinks about it.

“Mom?” Connor's voice is quiet from underneath the oxygen mask, and his eyes stay closed. Cynthia’s halfway into convincing herself that it was her mind playing games with her when she hears him say it again. “Mom?”

“Connor, sweetheart, I’m right here,” She mumbles, tears falling now. One lands on his hand. He grips hers reflexively from it. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were hurting this bad and I should’ve done so much to save you or make you better.” She’s rambling now, the words pouring out of her without a second thought to them.

“Hurts,” Is all Connor says in reply, squeezing her hand gently again. 

It only makes her cry harder.

She manages to get the nurse to give him a little more pain medicine, but Cynthia notices the pain etched through his forehead while he’s barely coherent. “You’re going to be okay, baby. Just let your body rest. I’m not leaving,” She promises, but Connor doesn’t react.

He falls back to sleep holding her hand, and Cynthia manages to control her crying until she can excuse herself to the bathroom.

She doesn’t think she’s felt more like a failure in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longggg chapter because i couldn't put a break in this one without it being too weird. brief Connor moment, a lot of Zoe realization and worrying from everyone. Connor will be in bits and pieces of the next few chapters, but more of him is coming!
> 
> thank you for all the love on the first few chapters, hopefully you guys continue to like it :)
> 
> you can talk to me/follow me on tumblr if you want :) for-f0rever.tumblr.com
> 
> i'll update again on friday!


	4. four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe has a lot of mixed emotions, things are tense, and friends worry.
> 
> TW: mentions of suicide

Sleep doesn’t come easy for Evan that night, not that he was expecting it to.

He and Heidi had watched three movies before Heidi insists that they have to get some rest, although he knows he’s definitely not going to go to school in the morning. He nods anyway and follows her upstairs slowly. Heidi turns around, reaching forward to rest her hands against his face as her thumbs caress his cheeks.

“If you need me at all throughout the night, please come get me. You are not alone in this, baby, I promise you that. You are never alone in this,” She says, Evan able to hear the emotion in her voice.

“Okay,” He whispers, nodding quickly as he takes a deep breath. Heidi leaves him with a kiss on the cheek, walking down to her room and shutting the door behind her.

Evan decides to shower when he realizes he’s not going to be able to sleep, grabbing his things and quietly walking to the bathroom. He turns on the water until it steams up the room, breathing in the air and trying to calm himself down. The anxiety hadn’t left his body since he first heard the breathing behind the tree that afternoon, and he isn’t really sure that it’s going to leave anytime soon.

He stands in the shower for far too long, letting the scalding water hit his bare skin. He decides it makes him feel alive, makes him realize that this isn’t a bad dream, but that he found his girlfriend’s brother on the brink of death and had effectively saved him from taking his own life.

He tries not to think about what Connor is going to say when he wakes up and realizes what Evan did when it was obvious he wanted to die.

He thinks about going back downstairs and making himself some more tea, but instead settles for laying on his bed staring up at the ceiling. Glow-in-the-dark stars are still stuck up there, and he counts them until his eyelids finally droop and sleep overcomes him in the early hours of the morning.

—

Connor is moved up to the ICU after two nervous hours in the recovery area, and Cynthia doesn’t think she’s calmed down at all. Connor stabilized after hours of touch and go moments, moments where Cynthia thought she was going to have to watch her son be revived. She never does though, and Connor somehow manages to not need to be intubated, which alone feels like a victory.

Cynthia trails behind his hospital bed through the hallways as they make their way towards the elevator. She carries a bag of his things in her hand, folded neatly with his jewelry resting on top. She makes a note to go through it later, but right now she doesn’t think she’ll be able to stomach seeing her son’s torn and bloodied clothes, not when they’re still so close to losing him.

“Nurses will be in every hour to check on him, or if his vitals change at all through the night. We’ll try to be as quiet as possible,” One of Connor’s nurses named Jane smiles when she’s done fiddling with his monitors, Cynthia thanking her quietly. She doesn’t have the strength to say anything else, but thankfully Jane seems to understand. “I’ll leave you be. If you have any questions or you need anything at all feel free to page us. Try to get some rest, Mrs. Murphy,” She says quietly, excusing herself from the room a moment later.

Cynthia sets Connor’s things down on the chair in the corner, walking back over to the bed that held her son. She still doesn’t feel like this is real. It feels like more of a nightmare than anything, one that she doesn’t think she’ll ever wake up from. Connor feels warm underneath her touch, her hand resting against his as she watches the slow rise and fall of his chest.

She remembers the first time Connor had tried to end his life. He was 14, just after the holidays of his freshman year. He hadn’t been okay for a while, Cynthia knew that. She just hadn’t known the extent of how bad it was.

She remembers walking upstairs to talk to him after he had come home from school looking upset, only to find him with a blade in his hand. There were a few shallow cuts lining his thighs, but none deep enough to need emergency treatment. She can remember wrestling the blade out of his hands, Connor screaming that she was ruining his life, that he just wanted to die and she should let him. She remembers holding back the tears as she pressed a towel to her son’s leg, holding him as best as she could while he cried into her shoulder.

His therapist back then had suggested a heavier depression prescription and a stint in a rehab, but despite her husband’s agreement to ship their son off if he was just going to keep resorting to this, Cynthia could never bear to have him leave. She didn’t see how a 14 year old would benefit being ripped from his home, especially when this wasn’t entirely his fault. So instead she allows the heavier medication but doesn’t opt for the stint in rehab, finding alternate solutions such as family therapy and increased therapy sessions for him alone in hopes that it would help.

It’s evident now, three years later, that it didn’t, and she wonders how different their lives would be had they made the decision to send him to the rehab that had been recommended the first time instead of waiting.

She’s broken from her thoughts when Connor shifts underneath her touch, moving his hand slightly. He had opened his eyes a few times in recovery, but this felt different, like he was more coherent and knew what was going on around him. Cynthia waits with bated breath until she sees Connor’s eyes open, and she smiles softly at him as he blinks rapidly, adjusting to the light in the room.

“You're okay, sweetheart. I’m right here,” She soothes when she notices his heart rate begin to speed up, Connor’s head falling to the side.

He blinks blearily again, but his hand turns over slowly to hold hers, and Cynthia thinks she may cry from the initiation alone. “Mom?” He whispers, his voice sounding so gravelly and distant that it breaks his mother’s heart slightly.

Cynthia only shushes him, reaching her free hand up to run it through his hair. “I’m right here, baby. Don’t talk if it hurts, just breathe and focus on getting better,” She whispers, Connor squeezing his eyes shut.

“It still hurts,” He mumbles, which Cynthia thinks makes sense considering what his body has gone through over the last few hours.

She leans down, kissing his cheek softly just next to the oxygen mask, her hand still running through his hair. “Oh, Connor, I’m so sorry,” She whispers, tears blurring her vision as she looks at her little boy, who’s still very clearly fighting for his life. Connor doesn’t say anything, but Cynthia doesn’t think he has to. She knows she failed him, and she needs to do better. “We’re going to do everything we can to get you better, my love. Just rest now,” She soothes, Connor nodding as he closes his eyes once more, his breathing slowly evening out.

Cynthia only parts from her son for a moment to pull a chair over, interlocking their hands again once she’s sat down. She’s content to spend the night there if it means Connor feels safer, too scared that if she ventures too far from him he’ll slip away, and there will be nothing that anyone can do to save him this time.

—

Zoe doesn’t think getting out of bed is going to come easy for her that morning, or at any point in the day if she’s honest.

She can hear Larry moving around in the kitchen, banging pots and pans as he makes breakfast for himself. She thinks about going downstairs, talking through what happened the night before and moving on, but right now she doesn’t think she has the strength. Things aren’t on good terms between the two of them, and it’s obvious they’re both stressed out about everything that’s going on.

She can hear her phone vibrating against her nightstand, but can’t be bothered to reach for it. She’s praying that Evan told Alana and Jared that she’s not going to be in school, but she remembers back to the day before and realizes that he’s probably not going into school either. Taking a deep breath she outstretches her arm, almost knocking over the water bottle in search for her phone to bring it over to look at.

She’s surprised to scroll through all the texts on her phone, all from Alana and Jared. They’re frantic, almost as if they knew that something had happened. She rolls onto her side, clicking on Alana’s first before Jared’s as she scrolls up to the first message, rubbing at her eyes.

_Hey! You weren’t at your locker this morning, are you running late or not coming? I can grab the notes for you if you’re not coming in today!_

_Zoe? I’m assuming you’re sick or you overslept or something. I’ll get your notes for you for the first few classes we have together until you show up/if you don’t come at all. Let me know when you’re awake._

_People in the halls are saying Connor isn’t here either. Zoe is everything okay? Please answer._

_ZOE! Did something happen? Are you okay? Are you safe? Oh god, please wake up._

_Going into homeroom. Please answer me as soon as you can. Jared said Evan isn’t here either. Hope the two of you are okay and this is just you two skipping and forgetting to tell us. Hope Connor is okay too._

_There’s a rumor going around that Connor killed himself. If this is true, I’m so sorry, Zo. Let me know if you want me to come over, or if you want to go out, or if you need anything at all. Love you, friend._

_Hey, it’s getting pretty late in the morning. Please let me know you’re okay. Noticed Evan wasn’t here either, but he’s not answering texts either. Hope you’re okay, love <3_

Zoe sighs, letting her phone fall onto her pillow for a moment. She should’ve known that a rumor would start. She figures it’s not completely impossible for people to know. They lived in a small town, word got around fast. She wonders how many people live near the orchard and saw the commotion, maybe piecing things together. She has so many thoughts on the way people talk about her brother. He had never been great to her, but that didn’t mean that she wanted him to be teased or ridiculed for being who he was, or his untreated mental illness.

**Hey, Lan. Sorry for not answering earlier, I just woke up. I didn’t mean to make you worry! I should’ve texted you last night and let you know I wasn’t coming in today. Connor…did try to kill himself yesterday afternoon. Evan found him. He’s alive, but things aren’t great right now. I’m not sure when I’ll be back in school, but thanks for getting my notes. I owe you. Maybe we can do something tonight? I’m going to go up to the hospital soon, but I need something happy in my life. <3**

There’s a knock on her door just after she hits send, looking up to see her dad open the door and look in. “I’m getting ready to head to the hospital. Did you want to come with me?” He asks, sounding more exhausted than anything else.

Zoe contemplates it for a moment, shaking her head as she falls back against her pillow. “I’ll drive myself there in a little bit. I want to shower and fix my hair and stuff,” She says quietly, hearing her dad take a deep breath as she nods.

“You have to come see your brother,” He says, Zoe finding herself more offended than she thought she would be at her father.

“I know, Dad. And I will. Just as soon as I get myself a little more presentable. I’m wearing the same clothes and makeup as yesterday,” She reminds him, Larry nodding. He mutters a goodbye before shutting the door again, Zoe picking up her phone to look through Jared’s texts so she can answer.

_You and your boyfriend ditching school today? How romantic of you. Where did you two run off to? Wherever you two are, be safe kids ;)_

_And to think that you didn’t even tell Alana and I that you weren’t going to be here. No decency from the two of you to at least warn your friends that you’re ditching!_

_Why are people saying Connor isn’t here either? Is there some weird dynamic going on between the three of you? Is you saying that you and Connor don’t get along just a cover up? God Zo, I didn’t pin you as the type._

_Fuck. People are saying Connor killed himself? Hope it’s not true, feel like a dick if it is. I’m sorry, Zoe. If this is true please don’t shut us out. We’ll want to help you._

_I hope you’re just sleeping and you’re not mad. I didn’t mean anything I said. Sorry, Zoe._

Zoe bites her lip, looking back at her texts as she struggles to find the words to say. Telling people that her brother didn’t die is hard enough for her, but for some reason she finds it difficult to talk to Jared about things like this. He was the one who always made her laugh, and rarely did they talk about anything serious.

**Hey, I’m sure Alana told you by now what happened. If not, Connor did try to kill himself yesterday, but Evan found him. He’s alive, but definitely not out of the woods. I’m not sure when I’ll be back at school. I’m guessing Evan will be back tomorrow, but you’d have to talk to him. And don’t worry about your jokes, if I wasn’t running on a few hours of sleep and slightly panicking about my brother I definitely would’ve laughed <3**

Zoe forces herself out of bed after she’s hit send, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her makeup is smudged underneath her eyes, and her hair is knotted around the ponytail she had thrown in at some point in the hospital yesterday. She looks horrendous to say the least, and decides the first thing she needs is a shower.

After getting herself ready she forces herself to eat some cereal, although her appetite is virtually gone after all of this. She finds it’s a good way to distract herself from having to go to the hospital now, coming to terms with the fact that she was terrified of what she was going to walk into when she got there. She didn’t know much about her brother’s condition, only that he had survived the surgery and he was going to be in the ICU. Cynthia wasn’t texting anyone, and Zoe figured even if she did call answering the phone was on the bottom of Cynthia’s priorities list.

She grabs a snack to put in her purse before grabbing her things and walking out to the car, beginning the drive back to the hospital. The sunshine feels good on her face, the fresh air doing wonders for her mood as she drives with the windows down on the way there. It’s bordering on being too cold for this, and she remembers the arguments she and Connor would get in about when it was too cold to drive with the windows down once school began.

The hospital is crowded for a weekday morning, and it takes Zoe ages before she finds a spot in the parking garage. Her feet feel like lead as she inches towards the front entrance, following the signs up to the ICU floor. Larry comes out to sign her in, leading her down the hall to her brother’s room.

“He’s in rough shape, Zoe. A lot more pain and with his body still flushing out the toxins, he’s not having a good morning. He’s agitated,” Larry says, Zoe nodding quickly. She wonders how much of the agitation is because of the pain he’s in, or if it’s because of something Larry may have said to him when he was awake. Zoe’s not putting it past him to say something wrong in this moment. She feels her heartbeat quicken as she pulls her bag closer to her body, following her father into her brother’s hospital room.

The last thing she thought she would see is Connor looking smaller than ever in the hospital bed, and yet that’s what she finds. The hospital gown falls off of his body, his bed flanked by machines that were attached to him all over, monitoring his vitals. He’s still on oxygen, but Zoe figures that’s a good thing when she knows it’s very possible that he could be intubated instead. The stark white bandages on his arm are an all too real reminder of what he had done the day before, and how close they were close to losing him.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Cynthia says, breaking Zoe’s stare from her brother to look over at her. She doesn’t look like she slept much, not that Zoe is surprised. She’s not sure she would’ve either if she had a son who looked like that inches from her.

“Hi,” Zoe whispers, walking over to kiss her cheek, her eyes fixating back on her brother now that she was closer than before.

Cynthia watches her daughter carefully, biting her lip when she sees how conflicted she is about all of this. “He may wake up soon, I think he’ll be happy to see that you’re here.”

Zoe laughs at that, her hand resting against the bed as she shakes her head. “He hates me. He’ll probably ask me to leave,” She mumbles, wondering how true the statement was.

She can hear her mother tsk under her breath, but she doesn’t lecture her or mention anything about how she’s wrong. Zoe figures it’s because she’s too tired.

The only time Connor wakes up while Zoe is there he doesn’t even notice anyone in the room but his mom, and Zoe’s more disappointed than she though she would be. She slinks back to the sofa in the corner of the room, pulling her phone out and scrolling through social media to distract her mind. All of this is so unknown for her, and she doesn’t know if she’s supposed to be upset that this is going on, happy that he lived, or worried that he felt like this in the first place. She settles for somewhere in between the three of them, which still doesn’t feel right.

“If you wanted to leave and come back tomorrow that’s okay, sweetheart. He probably won’t be alert much more today, and you deserve to be able to get out of the hospital for a little. Maybe see your friends or whatever,” Cynthia offers. Zoe thinks she just wants one child with a sense of normalcy, but Zoe isn’t about to deny the offer.

She walks over to say goodbye to her parents, patting her brothers leg as she stares at his face, watching the oxygen mask steam a little more with each breath he took. “I’ll be back in the morning, Connor. Keep getting better,” She says quietly, grabbing her things and walking out of the room, back towards the front of the hospital.

She pulls her phone from her back pocket as she walks back into the warm sunshine, scrolling down until she finds Evan’s phone.

**Are you busy? Just leaving the hospital, but can’t be alone right now. Want to do something <3**

Her phone doesn’t vibrate until she’s in the car and settling in, grabbing it from the cupholder.

_Alana and Jared came over to bring work/do homework. Want to come? If that’s too many people we could always hang out when they leave. Shouldn't be too much longer if I don't tell them to stay for dinner. <3_

Zoe takes a deep breath, typing a few things out before deleting them all. She’s worried about seeing anyone else, but ultimately decides it’s probably a good thing to distract her mind.

**No, that’s okay. It’d be nice to see them too and a good distraction :) be there in 15 <3**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another long chapter! apparently i wrote more super long chapters than i thought! 
> 
> alana and jared will be in more starting next chapter, and connor will slowly become more prevalent in the story, i promise! he's definitely not going to be forgotten in all of this :)
> 
> i wrote a little deh one-shot last night and posted it if you'd like to read it :) - https://archiveofourown.org/works/12677961 it couldn't be more opposite from this story but i apparently had a lot of emotions last night i needed to get out omg.
> 
> you can find me/talk to me on tumblr at for-f0rever.tumblr.com if you'd like :)
> 
> more of this on tuesday! let me know what you guys think of this :) thank you for reading!


	5. five.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe finds peace away from the hospital and Larry and Cynthia share a small moment despite the chaos.

Zoe’s legs feel heavy as she walks up the front walk of Evan’s house, her hands firmly on the straps of her backpack. She feels like it’s to stop herself from shaking from anxiousness or lack of sleep, but deep down she knows it’s because she’s worried about confronting Alana and Jared after they had just found out about her brother. She didn’t want sympathy from them, she just wanted them to be her normal friend.

Evan opens the door before Zoe has a chance to knock, giving her a small smile as she leans forward to kiss him. His lips feel like home to Zoe, and immediately she feels herself relax underneath his touch. “Are you okay?” He asks, his hands resting against her biceps.

Zoe just nods, taking a deep breath and falling against his chest, desperately needing to center herself when everything feels like it’s moving a million times faster around her. “I’ll be okay,” She whispers, really trying to convince herself more than anything. “It’s just a lot, you know? Seeing your brother on the brink of death is a lot to take in,” She mumbles, Evan nodding quickly.

He gives her a moment to calm herself down before leading her back in the house. “Alana and Jared are in the living room, my mom won’t be home for a little while. You um, you sure you’re ready to see them?” He asks, Zoe shrugging as she kicks her shoes off by everyone else’s.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to be ready. Let’s just do this,” She tries to smile, Evan nodding as they walk back through the house, moving into the living room.

Alana doesn’t say anything to Zoe, but she does stand up and engulf her in a hug before Zoe can even set her bag down, and Zoe thinks it may be the most normal thing that’s happened to her in the last 24 hours. “We’ve been so worried. We’re so glad you could come hang out with us!” She says, the cheeriness in her voice cutting through Zoe’s tense and almost rotten mood that’s been lingering.

She manages to nod, walking over to sit on the sofa opposite Jared. He gives her a little nod and a smile, and for Zoe, that’s more than enough. “Good to see you, Murphy,” He says, Zoe turning back to him as she tries to smile.

“Good to see you, too,” She manages to say, wondering if Jared realized just how much that statement was true. Being in the hospital had been awful, and now that she had settled down and her nerves were slowly melting away, she had to admit that it felt amazing to be with her friends and away from everything going on in her life.

“We know you probably don’t want to talk about it,” Alana says gently, reaching to pull her binder back onto her lap. “But how’s Connor?”

Zoe sighs, her thumb fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist as she takes a deep breath. She expected the question, honestly, but now that she’s in front of them she wishes that she had taken the time on the ride over to think of an answer that’s vague but still says enough. Her mind blanks when she’s put on the spot, and now she isn’t sure what she’s going to say.

Evan seems to be able to sense how nervous she is, reaching over from his spot on the chair next to the sofa and resting his hand on her leg. Zoe bites her lip, staring at it until she feels like she’s memorized the lines in his hands before she finally comes up with something.

“He’s alive,” She states simply, although quickly realizes that that’s an obvious answer. “I mean, we don’t really know. He woke up a few times today, but I don’t think he even noticed I was there. He mostly just looks at my mom, answers some questions for the nurses about his pain, and then falls back to sleep. He’s in pain a lot, and he struggles with being off oxygen, so for the most part he’s on it and a ton of other monitors that I’m not really sure what they do,” Zoe says quickly, finally tearing her gaze away from Evan’s hand against her thigh.

“We’re um, we’re not sure when he’ll be fully conscious again, or how much damage there is to his kidneys or liver, or when he’ll be able to come home. It’s a lot of touch and go right now? A lot of waiting until Connor’s body decides to wake up fully again. There isn’t really much else the doctors can do for him besides keep him comfortable without letting him overdose again,” She shrugs, suddenly feeling as though her skin was too tight, that she didn’t belong in the body she was in.

Thankfully Alana just nods, twirling her pen between her fingers. “Well, if you or your family need anything at all, please let us know? Jared and I were talking about it at school today, and we’d be able to do whatever you needed to help,” She says, Zoe nodding as a thank you. She can’t seem to find the right words for how much that means to her.

Eventually they slip back into doing their homework, Zoe spending her time copying her notes from Alana’s notebook. She notices the scribbles in the margins, the stars and doodles lining every free space. She finds it endearing, and wonders what her notes would look like if she decorated more like Alana. She doesn’t want to admit that she copies some of them into her own notes.

“I’m not in your science class, but you have Mrs. White for chem, right Zoe?” Jared asks, Zoe snapping her head up as she nods. “I have notes from today and the answers to the worksheet from the other day if you wanted to copy those. That way at least you’re caught up for the last few days and you won’t feel completely lost when you come back.”

Zoe smiles, nodding as she sets her pen down. “That would be a lifesaver, thank you. Just let me finish copying these English notes from Alana and then I’ll copy those notes and worksheet answers,” She says, Jared smiling in return as he nods.

It’s the first time in over 24 hours that Zoe doesn’t feel completely overwhelmed by her life, not that anything has changed. She decides that being with friends has helped her forget everything going on, and the fact that they’re treating her as if they normally would is exactly what she needs. 

She finally has faith that they’re going to figure this all out and it’s going to be okay, and that’s the most important victory she finds in her life that afternoon.

—

“Cynthia, you need to take a break from his bedside and come eat something. Nothing is going to happen with you a few feet further away,” Larry says softly, Cynthia turning back to look at him. 

“I’m not hungry right now,” She says quietly, her words short and dismissive as she shifts her glance to look at her husband. 

Larry only sighs, shaking his head as he sits down on the sofa in the corner of the room. “You’ve barely eaten a thing since he was admitted. You need to eat something or you’re going to be just as bad as him.” He tries to keep his voice even, but it’s hard for Cynthia not to miss the agitation slowly coming behind his words.

Without a word Cynthia stands up from the chair she had begun to call home, leaving a kiss against Connor’s cheek before walking over to the sofa. Larry had gotten her a sandwich, handing it to her quietly as she sits down beside him, resting it on her lap. Her eyes glance at Connor every so often, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest and the monitors attached to him to prove to herself that he was okay. That he was breathing, and in that moment nothing was wrong.

“Staring at him isn’t going to change things,” Larry mutters, taking another bite of his sandwich as he glances at his wife. “We can’t wish for him to get better any faster than he is. We just have to sit and wait and let his body rest.”

Cynthia nods, her lips pursed in a thin line as she shifts to look at her husband. “Do you even care that our son is fighting for his life right now?” She asks, but she knows that it comes from the lack of sleep and constant anxiety riddling her body about her son.

Larry looks about as shocked as she does, deflating as he looks at his lap. “Why would you ever think that I don’t care that Connor is fighting for his life?” He asks, but in the back of his mind he knows the answer to this question. He knows he hasn’t been a good dad to Connor, and part of him wonders if he’s partly to blame for why they’re in this predicament in the first place.

Cynthia takes a deep breath, setting her sandwich back down on the wrapper as she takes a sip of her water. “I’m sorry,” She mumbles, quiet and distant. Larry grumbles a sort of acceptance, and a silence falls back between them. “I’ve just been so worried about him, and it just seems like you’re not even emotional about him being here and barely being awake at all.”

Larry nods, grabbing a napkin from between them and wiping his mouth. He had been avoiding talking about this, mostly because he didn’t know why he wasn’t emotional about what was going on. “I don’t know how to show how scared I am, Cynthia. I can’t cry, no matter how much I feel like I should. I guess…I guess I just figured if he was coherent and he knew that there were other people in the room besides you, he wouldn’t want me here.”

Cynthia sighs at that, shaking her head. “Of course he’d want you here, Larry,” She insists, watching her husband shrug his shoulders. “You two haven’t had the best relationship, but he’d want you here. Maybe this is a new beginning for the two of you.”  
Larry watches as Cynthia wraps up the other half of her sandwich and places it in her bag, standing up from her spot on the sofa. She makes her way back to the chair she had sat in for most of their time in this room, taking Connor’s good hand and rubbing his warm skin with her thumb.

“Your father and I are here, baby. Whenever you’re ready to wake up, we can’t wait to see you.”

Larry excuses himself for a moment, finding the hallway bathroom and locking himself in a stall. He cries for the first time since everything happened, covering his mouth to hide his sobs.

His son is on the brink of death, his wife worries that he doesn’t care, and everything around him is falling apart. He isn’t sure things get any worse.

—

Alana and Jared take the hint after they watch a movie that Zoe and Evan want time alone, smiling as they grab their things. “We can do this again tomorrow if you want, Zoe. If you’re not planning on coming to school,” Alana says, pulling her backpack onto her back. Zoe nods, chewing on her bottom lip as she stands up from the sofa.

“I’m not sure if I’ll be in school tomorrow. It’s kind of a morning decision, you know? Plus, I’m not sure I’m ready for all the whispers, especially if people think Connor is um…you know,” She trails off, Alana and Jared nodding quickly.

They leave Zoe and Evan with hugs, Evan leading them to the door as Zoe makes herself back at home on the couch. She’s always loved Evan’s house, it made her feel so much cozier than hers. She knew that Evan and his mom didn’t have much, but there were family photos scattered throughout the house, and the sheer amount of baby pictures Heidi still had up brought Zoe so much joy even when when Evan would blush and protest about her light teasing.

His footsteps break her out of the trance she had been in staring at the photo of Evan and Heidi from Evan’s 8th grade graduation, looking over at him as she tries to smile. Evan returns the gesture, sitting down on the sofa next to her, reaching out to take her hand.

“You okay?” He asks, and it comes from such a sincere place that Zoe can’t even be annoyed at the constant asking of if she’s okay. 

She nods, leaning closer to him as a source of comfort. “I mean, I’ll be okay,” She shrugs, trying to play it off. “I just…can we talk about something other than all of this? I know you’re doing it to be nice and you’re worried, and I love you for that, but I just can’t keep dwelling on Connor. Not right now,” She says, praying she doesn’t sound too demanding.

Evan nods quickly, pulling his hand away to run through his hair. “Y-yeah, of course. Sorry, I didn’t know you didn’t want to um, to talk about it?” He says, feeling a slight wave of relief wash over him when Zoe smiles.

“It’s okay, babe. You’re just being a normal boyfriend. But you um, you know how Connor and I are,” She says, Evan nodding quickly, not wanting to say anything else that would drag this on.

There’s a silence that falls between the two of them, and Evan decides to turn on the tv to drown out the awkwardness. “My mom should be home from work soon. I think we’re just going to order pizza or something if you wanted to stay for dinner. I um, I don’t know if you have plans or anything.”

Zoe laughs at that, shaking her head as she reaches out for his hand. “I mean, I know I said I didn’t want to talk about it, but that didn’t mean you had to just forget about it,” She smiles, Evan laughing awkwardly at that as he nods. “My dad is going to stay at the hospital until visiting hours are over, so I have a few hours. Unless you wanted to be alone.”

“N-no!” Evan stammers, tripping over his own words as he tries to stop her from leaving. “I mean, my mom would um, would want you to stay. And I want you to stay,” He says quickly, Zoe smiling as she nods.

So she stays. She pulls herself closer to Evan, resting her head against his shoulder as they get far too invested in an episode of Chopped Junior they swear they’ve seen a million times before. Heidi walks into the scene with a pizza in her hand, smiling when she notices the two teenagers anxiously waiting to see if all the kids would finish the round in time.

“Hey, you two,” She smiles, hanging up her jacket and purse in the closet. “Zoe, it’s so good to see you. Are you staying for dinner?” She asks, Zoe looking over after the final buzzer goes, smiling.

“If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Hope you don’t mind takeout pizza,” She laughs, Zoe shaking her head.

“That sounds amazing,” She says, both she and Evan standing up from the sofa to walk out to the kitchen for dinner. 

Heidi hands them both plates, dishing out their slices before they sit down at the table. It’s the most normal feeling ever, although Zoe can’t help but wish that this was a family dinner with her own parents and brother.

There’s silence between the three of them, Zoe finishing her piece before looking over to Heidi. “Do you um, do you know how Connor is? I wasn’t there very long today, and I just didn’t know if um, if things had changed or anything,” She asks apprehensively, her head shooting towards Evan when she hears him choke. He waves the conversation on, and after a brief moment of getting him some water Heidi turns back to her.

“I checked on him before I left,” She says, Zoe feeling slightly better about that. “His nurse said he had just woken up and acknowledged that your parents were there with him. He has a fever and they were taking him down for a scan of his kidneys again, but they were going to start weaning him off the oxygen. So overall it was positive news. His attending nurse said he’s headed in all the right directions and should be able to have the psych evaluation tomorrow as long as he has no setbacks.”

Zoe nods, thanking her softly as she stands up to get more pizza. 

They don’t say much else over dinner, but Evan can tell that Zoe seems much more relaxed. He doesn’t bring it up, not wanting to go against his promise of not talking about Connor anymore, but she seems happier. And while he doesn’t know what this journey is going to bring for the siblings, he hopes for Zoe’s sake that it’s a much better outcome than it had been before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter starts much more Connor, i promise! like actual conversations with him and more about his relationships with his family and things :)
> 
> thank you as always for the kudos/comments/love/reads this receives. hopefully you guys are enjoying it :)
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at for-f0rever.tumblr.com , feel free to talk to me if you want!
> 
> more on friday!


	6. six.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> connor wakes up and zoe is conflicted

Despite Cynthia’s vigilant effort of watching her son’s every move in hopes of seeing some sort of change, it’s Larry that notices Connor beginning to wake up. This isn’t the first time he’s opened his eyes, but this attempt feels different. Connor seems to move his body this time, his face scrunching up in pain before his eyes shoot open, blinking a few times in an attempt to adjust to the harsh hospital lights staring back at him.

“Mom?” He mumbles, his voice weak and distant from underneath the oxygen mask. Cynthia weeps, standing up and brushing her hands through Connor’s greasy hair as she nods, doing her best to smile.

“I’m right here, baby. Oh god, Connor, it’s so nice to see your eyes again,” She whispers, wondering why this time had felt so different.

Connor just nods, but his free hand wraps around her hand, and he squeezes just tight enough that Cynthia’s able to feel it. She squeezes back, rubbing her thumb along the back of his hand just near his IV. “How are you feeling?”

It’s a silly question, really. Connor feels spaced out, but he doesn’t feel like he can say that. He tries to shift in the bed, wincing as he lets his head fall to look at her. “Everything hurts,” He finally decides, which isn’t exactly a lie. The pain medicine helps, but he still feels like his body is on fire now that he’s thinking about it.

Cynthia frowns, hitting the nurse’s button before resting her hand against Connor’s cheek. He doesn’t fight it, and Cynthia pretends it’s because he wants the comforting touch and not because he’s in pain and too tired to fight.

“Connor!” The nurse Jane smiles, seeming genuinely surprised to see him awake. Cynthia smiles at that, staying at Connor’s side while Jane works on taking his vitals. “Still have a fever,” She mumbles, writing a few things down on his chart.

“Is that normal?”

Jane smiles at Cynthia, nodding. “It was to be expected, this is nothing out of the ordinary for someone going through what Connor is going through,” She says, Cynthia nodding. “I’m going to page Dr. Nichols, have him come in and take a look at you. I think you’ll be taken off the oxygen mask for cannula oxygen when he’s in, but don’t quote me on that,” She says as she shifts her attention back to Connor. Connor just nods, not quite in the mood to be optimistic about things.

Jane leaves the room as quietly as she came, leaving the door propped open for Dr. Nichols when he arrives in a few minutes. Connor takes the moment to blink blearily, looking around the room as his eyes land on his father for the first time.

“Dad?” He asks, Connor wondering if he’s hallucinating from the drugs they have him on.

Larry smiles, taking slow steps to the bed and nodding. He runs his hands through Connor’s long hair, trying not to grimace at how greasy it was. “Hey, buddy,” He whispers, hating how foreign this all felt to him. “Didn’t want to overwhelm you when you first woke up.”

Connor nods, taking a deep breath as he stares at the ceiling. His mind is full of a million different thoughts and feelings, but the main one is that he’s alive. He thought for sure this would be the time that would end it all, that he would finally go through with it. He can feel the stitches pulling underneath the bandages on his wrist, he knows he cut himself deep enough to require medical intervention, but he doesn’t remember much of anything else.

He thinks about asking, but his mom’s already cried for most of the few minutes he’s been awake, and he thinks that’ll only makes her cry more. He notices Zoe isn’t there, but figures maybe if she bothers to come visit he can ask her what happened. She’s never had a problem being blunt with him, he figures this wouldn’t be any different.

He’s pulled out of his daydream by a man standing at the end of his bed, smiling softly at him after reading over his charts. Connor doesn’t know how to feel about him, but he doesn’t seem overbearing and doesn’t look intimidating, so he figures that’s a good sign. “It’s nice to see you awake and coherent, Connor,” He says, Connor only nodding.

Connor doesn’t protest when Dr. Nichols takes his vitals again, although he is slightly agitated when he just had to sit through this a few minutes prior. He listens to his lungs, Connor sitting up a little when Dr. Nichols pulls away. Connor seems relieved it’s over, but begrudgingly answers a few questions to test how aware and alert he is. He thinks about faking it, but realizes they’d probably be able to catch on.

“We’re going to switch oxygen real quick, but everything else needs to stay on for the rest of today,” He says, Connor nodding.

He doesn’t think he does well at hiding his disappointment.

“One monitor at a time, Connor. This is a process,” He says, waiting until Jane arrives again before they make the change. Connor tries to comply, but finds that it’s painful to move around and so he ends up tensing. He’s never been more relieved to have everyone step away.

Jane leaves the room once more but Dr. Nichols takes a seat on the edge of the bed, Connor moving his feet further from him. “Now, obviously there’s a reason why you’re here,” He begins, and Connor knows this is the beginning of a lecture. He leans back into the pillow, wishing the bed would just swallow him whole so he could be gone. “It’s required that you’re kept on 72-hour psychiatric hold. You’ll also have to talk to a psychiatrist, which will happen tomorrow as long as you’re stable through the night. From there myself and the psychiatrist as well as you and your parents will make a decision on what we feel is best for you from here.”

Connor nods, but he knows that he was just lied to. He doesn’t think he’s going to have much of a say at all, and now that his suicide attempt failed he worries that his dad is going to want to ship him away again and his mom is going to go along with it because she was too tired to fight with him anymore.

Dr. Nichols answers a few more questions from Cynthia before excusing himself from the room to tend to another patient, Connor finally feeling less like he was suffocating. He stares at the ceiling for the longest time, feeling constantly like someone was just on the tip of saying something.

No one ever does.

“Visiting hours are going to end in a few minutes, Connor. I’m going to go home and spend the night with Zoe, but did you want me to bring you anything back tomorrow? You can’t have much,” Larry reminds him, which hurts Connor more than he thought it would.

He doesn’t say that though, but bites his tongue until he tastes blood.

“My pillow and the book off my nightstand,” He says quietly, Larry nodding as he glances at the time, walking back over to pack his things up for the night.

“I’ll be back in the morning. Get some rest, kid,” He says, feeling so detached as a father. Connor cringes but nods anyway, watching his father walk out the door after saying goodbye to Cynthia.

Cynthia thinks about saying something, but when she turns back Connor’s eyes are closed. She instead sits back in her seat, taking Connor’s hand like she has every other night.

“Do you think Zoe will come tomorrow?” Connor asks, startling Cynthia with his voice filling the room. Connor immediately regrets asking when he hears his mother sigh.

“She’s been here both days,” Cynthia says, Connor parting his eyes. He’s surprised, honestly, because Zoe is the last person he thought would willingly come visit, let alone twice. He figures they forced her to come. “This is…this is a lot for her, sweetheart. But I’m sure she’ll be here tomorrow to see you, especially when she knows you’re fully awake.”

Connor just nods, letting his eyes shut once more, the medicine kicking in and sleep taking over his body.

Cynthia stays up far too late, worried about the next steps to get her son away from ever feeling like he needed to resort to this again.

—

Zoe’s car is in the driveway when Larry arrives home, which he’s secretly thankful for. He hasn’t been able to shake the feeling of failure with Connor, and he figures maybe he can redeem himself with Zoe. They had always had a better relationship than he and Connor anyway.

Zoe’s in the kitchen when she hears the door open, turning to see her dad walking in, giving her the best smile he can. “How was your afternoon?” He asks, Zoe shrugging as she turn around with some ice cream in her hand.

“It was okay,” She says, offering him the bowl she had gotten out herself. He shakes his head, sitting down at the island across from her. “I went to Evan’s with Alana and Jared and worked on homework, and then Evan and I watched TV for a little. I had dinner with them.”

Larry nods, wiping his face with his hands. “Thank Heidi for us,” He says, Zoe quickly nodding. There’s a pause between them, the only sound being Zoe’s spoon hitting the ceramic bowl. She thinks about going back to watching her movie, but she has to admit that he looks rougher than she thought he would.

“Connor’s awake,” Larry finally says, looking back at his daughter after a few moments. “He’s coherent. Able to talk to us and answer questions that we or the doctors and nurses ask him. They switched out his oxygen for cannula oxygen and Dr. Nichols said as long as he stays stable tonight he’ll have the psych evaluation tomorrow and we’ll go from there on what we need to do to get him better.”

Zoe nods, trying to process everything in her mind. She had only missed a few hours at the hospital, but with everything her dad had told her she feels like she missed days. “I’ll come visit him tomorrow maybe,” She says, Larry nodding as he yawns, running his hand through his hair.

“Did you want to go to school tomorrow? Counselors know why you’re out and you’re excused through the rest of the week,” He says, looking back at her. “It’s up to you, though. If you want to go you can.”

Zoe shakes her head without hesitation, sighing. “I’m not ready.”

Larry just nods, not pressing the issue any further. “It’d be good if you’d see Connor tomorrow. I understand if you change your mind, though.”

Zoe chews on the inside of her lip, nodding quickly. She doesn’t know what to say to her father, and decides that not saying anything is probably the best way to go with this.

“I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too late,” Larry says, standing up from his spot at the island. He leaves a kiss to the side of Zoe’s head, Zoe freezing until his footsteps trail down the hallway upstairs, his bedroom door shutting behind him.

She puts her bowl in the sink absentmindedly, turning on the kettle for tea. Her mind is racing, her fingers tapping against the granite as she stares out the window into the backyard. The kettle whistles beside her, and she goes through the motions of making tea without realizing what she’s doing.

Feeling like the house was suffocating, Zoe quietly opens the back door and steps out onto the deck. The air is chilly, and instantly she wraps her arms around herself, wishing she had a sweatshirt. She doesn’t want to go back inside, and instead sits on the chair just outside the door, taking a deep breath in.

She doesn’t know why her brain feels like it won’t slow down. She doesn’t think she has time to think about her thoughts anymore. Everything is consumed with Connor and how she’s going to approach him when she sees him again now that she knows he’s coherent.

Most of her feels awful that she dreads hearing that he’s awake and aware of his surroundings. She doesn’t know why she feels that way, but she also doesn’t think any form of positive thinking is going to stop it from happening. She feels the way she feels about her brother now, but she wonders if that’ll change at all when she sees him again and the two of them can talk.

She’s not holding her breath.

When the goosebumps on her arms seem permanent and she’s fairly sure her hair is frozen from being out in the cool air Zoe forces herself to stand up and go inside, locking the door behind her. She pours herself another mug of tea before turning everything off and retreating up to her room, the fairy lights around her headboard illuminating everything.

Sitting down in the middle of her bed, Zoe glances at her phone. She has no new messages, the only thing staring back at her being the time. She decides to take a bath, hoping it calms her down and relaxes her mind so she can actually get some sleep that night.

It doesn’t, and she really thinks she shouldn’t be as disappointed as she is.

Crawling back into bed Zoe fumbles with her phone again for a few minutes, scrolling through social media quickly before moving to her messages, clicking on the ones with her and Evan.

**Hey :) I’m not coming to school tomorrow, Connor is awake for real now and I know my parents would be disappointed if I didn’t go see him. Plus I just don’t think I’m ready to be back at school and listening to everyone around me whisper about Connor. Can we please hang out again tomorrow? I need you to keep me sane through all of this. Love you <3**

She sets her phone down on her nightstand, unplugging her lights and staring at the ceiling for far too long. Her mind is flooded with how she’s going to approach her brother the following day, just praying that there's a slim chance they won’t fight when he sees she came to visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> connor is awake! there's a big moment with him and zoe next chapter, i promise. it just didn't feel right to tag on to the end of this, so i saved it for next chapter. 
> 
> thank you for the reads/bookmarks/kudos/love on this story. reading your comments and seeing kudos honestly make my day like i love it.
> 
> you can talk to me on tumblr at for-f0rever.tumblr.com if you'd like :)
> 
> more on tuesday! :)


	7. seven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where zoe and connor talk, leaving zoe more confused than ever.

Zoe wakes up the next morning to her phone vibrating across her nightstand, lazily reaching out to grab it. She only has a few texts, but Evan’s looks to be the longest and she can’t resist opening it first.

_I totally understand, I didn’t think you’d be here today. I went back, but we can hang out after school again? With or without Alana and Jared if you want, it doesn’t matter. I’ll tell Alana you won’t be here so she can take notes again for you in the classes you have together._

_Also if you’re going to talk to Connor today, good luck. I know this is scary? But maybe this is the beginning you two need to start fixing things. Just…just let him know you’re there for him? I don’t know, or just take things one step at a time. I think it’ll be okay, maybe he’ll want the help._

_That was probably the worst advice I’m sorry! Just let me know if you want to talk about things tonight or after school or whatever. Love you <3_

Zoe smiles, reading over the texts a few times. She had almost forgotten about visiting Connor now that he was awake, and suddenly the anxiety fills her again as she begins typing back.

**No, the advice helped. You kind of always know what to say? :) I’m going to take it slow, let him kind of dictate how we’re going to go through this. I mean, he’s my brother, but like I can’t keep going through this roller coaster if he’s just going to alienate me again when he’s out of the hospital. I’ll let you know how it goes. And yes, this afternoon works. If Alana and Jared are free I don’t mind if they come, I thought it was good for me to be surrounded by a few people. We can hang out alone after? Love you <3**

She scrolls through a few texts from her dad about bringing things up to the hospital for her mom, sending a quick text back before forcing herself out of bed. Her head spins for a moment, her feet feeling like lead as she forces herself to take a few steps out of her room before she tackles the stairs.

The house feels too quiet, and in an effort to drown out the silence Zoe plugs her phone into the speaker and turns on her happy playlist. She and Evan had made it on a night where Evan’s anxiety seemed to be taking control of his mind, and Zoe needed to distract him while they waited for his medicine to kick in. She doesn’t admit to anyone that it’s still her favorite playlist to this day.

She dances around the kitchen while making her breakfast, feeling herself smile as she lets herself be free. So much of her mind had been overtaken by Connor and school and everything else going on that she can’t remember the last time she felt like she had no worries, or at least when she felt like she could just be so blissfully happy about things despite everything crumbling around her.

She answers a few texts from Alana and Jared when she sits down, her music still blaring as she eats her breakfast. She knows she’s prolonging the inevitable, she knows she’s just going to have to face her fears and go to the hospital, but right now this is her happy place, and she’s going to revel in it for as long as she can.

Forcing herself to shut off the music and go back upstairs Zoe takes her time getting ready, walking into her parents room to grab the things her mom had requested. She thinks about bringing schoolwork, but figures it’d be rude if she showed up with other things to do while she was supposed to be bonding with her brother again or whatever her parents wanted for her and Connor.

Her drive to the hospital takes her the long way, and no amount of music is able to drown out how she’s feeling about getting ready to face the one thing she thought she was never going to be able to do at any point.

—

The hospital looks and feels the same as it did the day before, but Zoe feels so much different. Her feet drag across the floor, and she notices nurses staring at her as she makes her way in, walking up to the front desk.

“I’m um, I’m here to see Connor Murphy,” She mumbles to the nurse at the front desk so she can have a pass to be in her brother’s room.

“Hi, Zoe,” The nurse says, Zoe looking up to find Heidi sitting there, a smile on her face. It immediately calms Zoe down. “Your brother is having a pretty good day. You’re going to have to leave soon when the psychiatrists come up, but I think you’ll be okay going to see him,” She smiles, writing out a pass for Zoe to stick onto her jacket.

She nods, trying to smile. She doesn’t think it’s a very convincing one. “Thank you, Ms. Hansen,” She finally says quietly, Heidi giving her a small smile as she nods, letting her walk herself down the hall.

Zoe spends her walk wondering how much Evan has told his mom about her relationship with Connor. She knows Evan and Heidi are close, but she also doesn’t know if she can see Evan telling Zoe’s issues to his mom when they’re hanging out.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Cynthia smiles when the door to Connor’s room opens. Zoe’s eyes snap to her, smiling softly.

“Morning,” She says quietly, shifting her bag of things on her shoulder. “I um, I brought you the things you wanted,” She mumbles, shifting back and forth between her feet.

Cynthia smiles, standing up from the chair and walking over to take the bag. “Thank you, Zoe,” She says, Zoe wondering why she seems so cheery when the room feels anything but that.

“Connor, your sister is here,” Cynthia says, turning back to the bed where Connor had been staring at his feet. Zoe thinks he knows she’s there, she doesn’t think he’s tuned that much out that he can’t see that she’s walked in.

Connor nods, and Larry clears his throat awkwardly from the corner of the room. Zoe decides it’s probably to break the tension.

“Hi, Zoe,” He says quietly, forcing himself to look up at her.

Zoe takes a moment to take in his appearance, noting how he looks a little better today than he had the previous day. “Hi, Connor.”

Silence fills the room again, and eventually Cynthia begins talking about something she had seen on the news this morning. Zoe tries to pay attention, but finds that her mind is swirling with thoughts she can’t even make out herself. Larry’s really the only one who acknowledges his wife’s words, which Zoe thinks is actually a step in the right direction when it comes to the two of them.

“Can I talk to Zoe alone for a minute?” Connor’s voice suddenly fills the room, looking over in the direction of his family.

No one is more surprised than Zoe, she thinks, but she’s even more surprised when Cynthia grants her son’s wishes, begrudgingly having Larry follow her out of the room. Zoe thinks that’s the first time she wishes her dad would’ve argued with her mom about at least one of them staying in the room with them.

Zoe stays in her spot on the sofa after her parents had left, Connor fiddling with the hospital bracelets on his wrist. The white bandages seem to stick out even more now for some reason, but she doesn’t say anything.

“What happened?” Connor suddenly asks, his head falling back against his pillow. “I mean like…the other day. What happened to me?”

Zoe furrows her eyebrows, looking up at her brother. “No one told you what happened?” She asks, caught off guard when Connor laughs quietly and shakes his head.

He fiddles with the blanket for a moment, forcing himself to look at her. “I think Mom is trying to do her best to act like nothing happened to me and I’m just here to fix my meds or something, and Dad hasn’t really said much of anything,” He shrugs, rolling the blanket between his fingers. “Look, I just, I have this psych evaluation in a little and I think it might help if I knew what happened completely for sure, and not just what happened in my own head. Because my recollection of what happened is probably wrong.”

Zoe nods, forcing herself to stand up and walk over to the chair her mother had left by Connor’s bedside. She thinks about what she’s going to say, but figures now is as good of a time as any to be blunt with him. She can’t remember anyone saying for her to tiptoe around Connor and his feelings. If they did say it, she decides she’ll deal with the consequences later.

“I don’t know everything,” She admits, staring at her lap. “But um, after school instead of waiting for me to be done jazz band you said you were going to walk home. I didn’t really think anything of it, but you took yourself to the orchard?” Zoe takes a deep breath, chewing on her lip until she feels like the tears have subsided and there’s no more threat of them falling. “Evan found you.”

Connor sucks a deep breath in, sinking his head as far back into the pillow as he possibly can. “He um, he was going there to work on things for his therapy session, and he found you there. You cut your wrist pretty deep a few times and you had taken a lot of pills. Evan hasn’t really said what you looked like or anything, but he had your blood on him and based on what the doctors had said, it was probably a lot of your blood.”

Connor nods, looking over at Zoe. She thinks she sees tears in his eyes, and seeing him have any emotions at all was terrifying to Zoe. “So he’s the one that called?”

Zoe nods quickly, wiping under her eyes. “He um, he called 911 and stayed with you until they got there. He held his sweatshirt to your wrist to stop you from bleeding out and rode with you in the ambulance and everything,” She says quietly, her voice cracking when she looks back up at him.

Connor’s silent, but Zoe thinks he looks more distraught than she ever thought he would. “I’m so sorry,” He mumbles, and before Zoe has a chance to comprehend that he’s the one apologizing, he’s crying.

Without thinking she springs up from her spot in the chair, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching out to run her fingers through his hair. “Connor, please stop crying,” She whispers, Connor rubbing at his eyes furiously as he nods, taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

“I’m such a fuck up, oh my god. You should’ve just told Evan to let me die, your life would’ve been so much better without me. I can’t even kill myself right without someone finding me. I just want to die, Zoe. Why didn’t he just let me die?”

Zoe’s crying now, shaking her head violently as her hands rest on Connor’s shoulders. “Connor, stop. Please just calm down, it’s okay. You’re okay, Connor. We’re going to figure this out. You’re not a fuck up,” She says, tears falling at an alarmingly fast rate.

She had always known Connor wanted to die. He was 14 the first time he had said it at a family dinner that had gone wrong. Larry shouted that he was doing it for attention, and all throughout the therapies Cynthia had gotten Connor into or the rehabs and retreats she had him try, Larry met them with resistance. But hearing Connor say that he wanted to die to Zoe’s face was new, even for them. They had spent the better part of the last 3 years not talking to avoid Connor saying he wanted to kill her, but she really thought this would’ve been something she heard before.

Connor takes deep breaths, leaning forward as his head falls against Zoe’s shoulder. Zoe can feel his uneven breathing hot against her flannel, gently guiding him back to his pillows, running her fingers through his hair. “Mom and Dad are going to help you now, Connor. I know you don’t believe it, I know you wish Evan would’ve just let you die, but I promise you, I think this is the change you need to get better,” Zoe whispers, not surprised when Connor doesn’t respond.

“You and I have not had the best relationship over the last few years. I’ve been scared of you, Connor, and although it is you saying that you want to kill me and I’m the worst sister in the world, I don’t think it’s your fault,” Zoe says quietly, Connor’s hand wrapped around hers. His chest is still heaving as he calms down, but he’s no longer crying. Zoe thinks that’s a victory. “You don’t know how to cope with how you’re feeling, but that doesn’t mean you can’t start now. And…and when you’re released and you start on whatever comes out of this psych evaluation today and you want me there to help you, then I’m going to be there. I want to help you, Connor, but only if you want me to help you. You have to tell me what you want.”

Connor nods, shifting his legs under the blanket as he looks over at her. “Thank you,” He whispers, Zoe nodding slowly.

She sits on his bed until his eyes close and his chest is no longer heaving, the grip on her hand loosening.

She doesn’t think she’s ever been more confused in her life.

—

Evan’s home begins feeling like a safe haven for Zoe. Heidi had always gone through the effort of making her feel welcome over the last few months, but this was different. Now she found herself there to escape her own home and how quiet it was with her family at the hospital most of the day, bringing her back to Earth by just hanging out with her friends.

Alana’s notes are sprawled out on the coffee table in front of Zoe as she feverishly copies them, the beautiful handwriting and doodles in the margins still distracting her. “Mr. Mattson said we’d have a test sometime next week, but I’m sure if you feel like you’re not ready or something I’m sure you could take it later,” Alana says, Zoe looking up at her and shaking her head.

“Your notes are a lifesaver, Lan. I’m sure I’ll be fine to take it next week as long as I don’t miss any books that are too important,” She smiles, Alana nodding quickly in return before returning to her homework.

The four of them work in silence for a while, and although Zoe has been spending most of the last few ways trying to avoid the silence, she thinks this is a good kind of quiet that she needs. She’s distracted by her work, there’s no pity for her from people she hardly knows, and her friends just want to help her stay caught up with school. It’s a quiet she can accept and get used to.

“Alana, we have to leave soon,” Jared broke the quietness, Alana checking her watch as her eyes widened.

“Where are you two off to?” Zoe asks, closing Alana’s book to hand back to her when she was finished.

Alana thanks her quietly, shoving her things into her bag. “Jared and I are going to one of those parent meetings at night. They asked us to present our history presentation there for something they’re working on as a group, it’s probably going to be a big deal,” Alana says, and Zoe does't miss the eye roll from Jared behind Alana’s back.

The pair leave just as Heidi is arriving home, bags on either shoulder as she smiles at the two of them. “Hi guys! Not staying for dinner?” She asks, Alana explaining where they were going again as Jared continues walking out to his car. “Well, good luck!” Heidi smiles, watching them pull away before she walks inside, finding Zoe and Evan sat on the sofa watching TV.

“I take it your homework is done?” She asks, setting her things down and hanging up her jacket. Both Zoe and Evan nod, Zoe sinking back against the cushions as her eyes droop slowly.

Evan disappears to the bathroom for a moment, Heidi realizing it’s her chance to talk to Zoe. Heidi’s aware that most of the focus has been on Connor, and rightfully so, but her heart aches for Zoe and everything she’s going through in this process as well, especially when everything had been so unknown.

“You okay, honey?” Heidi asks, sitting down on the sofa next to Zoe.

Zoe just parts her eyes, shrugging as she rubs at her face, a lame attempt in getting herself to wake up. “I guess I’m doing the best I can,” She sighs, which really is about the best answer she can muster in this moment.

“I know this is tough for you, too, sweetheart. I know you’ve been through a lot, and right now the focus is on your brother because it has to be, but that doesn't mean that you’re any less important.” Heidi reaches out to rest her hand against Zoe’s arm, rubbing gently. “I don’t know everything about your dynamic with Connor. I don’t know how the two of you got along before this, or how this is affecting you. But I do know that it's okay for you to be upset. It’s okay for you to be angry, or to be sad that your brother feels this way, or to worry about what the future is going to be like. And if you ever need to talk or just get some aggression out, Evan and I are here for you, just as I’m sure Alana and Jared are.”

Zoe really bites her tongue to stop herself from crying. It’s the nicest anyone has been to her since all of this happened, and she isn’t sure that anything she says is going to show how grateful she is to have people like the Hansen’s in her life. So instead she nods, leaning her head down against the back of the sofa and trying to smile.

“Connor and I um, we talked today,” She says quietly, wondering how many boundaries she was overstepping talking to her boyfriend’s mom like this. “We don’t have the best relationship. He’s told me that he’s wanted to kill me a million times, and that I'm the worst sister and he hates that we have to say were related. All kinds of awful things.” Heidi frowns at that, but stays quiet and lets Zoe keep talking.

“I know he just needs to sort out his brain and be put on meds again that actually work, but I’m scared about the future between us. He started crying when I was with him. Like full on bawling his eyes out, telling me how he wished Evan just let him die and that he was…that he is a fuck up.” Zoe took a deep breath, biting her lip as a tear falls. She doesn’t think she's going to be able to stop them now.

Heidi sighs, moving to hold Zoe’s hand as she rubs her thumb along the back of it. “I don’t know what the future is going to bring you and Connor. I don’t know if he’ll push you away when he’s home, or if he’ll refuse treatment. But I do know that you are doing the best you can with approaching this. Just take it slow, remember that your brother has some of the best doctors and therapists on his side, and this may be exactly what he needs to be happy again.”

Zoe nods, thanking her quietly. She feels like a weight was lifted off her chest with this, and wonders why she hadn't come to Heidi for advice sooner than this.

Evan watches from the hallway just outside the living room, listening to Zoe's story about Connor. He wants to be angry that she hadn’t told him they had talked. He wants to be annoyed that she went to his mom before her, but he can’t.

Zoe is confiding in whoever she thinks is going to listen, and although he wishes it was him before his mom, he knows his mom gave better advice than he ever would. And so for that he’s willing to share her, instead taking an approach to helping Zoe from a different angle that he hopes proves to be more successful than what he had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> connor being more alert/slowly beginning recovery is going to bring a lot of mixed emotions and confusion for everyone. how do you think it'll go?
> 
> as always, thank you for all the reads/kudos/comments/love :)
> 
> you can come talk to me about anything on tumblr if you want! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> more on friday! if you celebrate thanksgiving i hope you have an amazing day with your family/friends/whoever! :)


	8. eight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where connor has a psych evaluation and zoe and evan talk things through
> 
> tw: mentions and descriptions of self-harm

Connor could think of about a million other things he’d rather be doing than going through a psych evaluation.

Thankfully he had convinced them to have his parents leave the room. Initially they weren’t going to agree with it, mostly because Connor was a minor and they usually wanted at least one parent to be present. Connor didn’t think he’d be able to be honest to the therapist if his mom or dad were sitting right there.

The man had introduced himself as Dr. James, shaking Connor’s hand before he sat down in the chair by his bed. Connor tries to get a read on this man, but nothing gives it away. He supposes there’s nothing _wrong_ with who he is — he seems young and friendly enough, Connor decides. But Connor doesn’t necessarily have a good track record with therapists.

He hopes this will be the one to change things.

“Connor, I know this isn’t easy. I know talking about what’s going on with you isn’t going to be your favorite thing you’ve ever done, but it’s important that you’re honest with how you’re feeling so we can form a plan on how to get you on the right track. I know this isn’t your first attempt, but we’re going to take our time with this, and find you something that’s going to get you better,” Dr. James says, Connor nodding.

“How would you rate your life on a scale of 1 to 10?”

Connor bites his lip, staring at his lap wondering if his eyes could just burn a hole in the blanket so this could end. “I guess a 5,” He finally says, Dr. James nodding.

“Is there a certain aspect of your life that makes you feel that way?”

Connor shrugs before shaking his head. “Everything sort of just changed when I was 13 or 14,” He says, deciding to be honest about the whole thing. He figures it’s just easier. “All of a sudden I just felt like I couldn’t control my anger, and I would lash out at everyone. I started picking fights just for the sake of it, but then things just started to get worse.”

“When you say things started to get worse, what do you mean by that?”

“I just…I started telling my sister I wanted to kill her. My dad and I started fighting more, we started disagreeing on almost everything. Everything everyone did annoyed or made me angry. I started throwing things, getting my aggression out on anything and everything, including the people I loved. People at school started calling me a freak, making fun of me. It just made me even angrier.”

Dr. James nods, which makes Connor angry. He doesn’t say anything. “Were you ever put on medication?”

Connor laughs, balling his good hand into a fist before releasing. “I’ve been on a million medications,” He says quietly, blinking his eyes slowly. “Nothing seemed to work so I stopped taking them.”

“Do you like yourself, Connor?” Dr. James asks, catching Connor off guard. He freezes, chewing on his lip until he tastes blood. “You need to be honest, it’s the only way we’re going to know exactly what the next steps are. Nothing you say here will leave the room or be told to anyone else, I promise. It’s all between you and I.”

Conor takes a deep breath, his head falling back to look at the ceiling. “No, I don’t.”

Dr. James nods, writing something down for an uncomfortably long time before looking back at Connor. “Have you tried to hurt yourself?”

Connor deadpans at Dr. James, because he knows the giant bandage on his wrist and the notes on his chart from the doctors gives away that answer. Dr. James seems to notice, giving him a small smile as he leans forward. “Okay, I’ll rephrase that,” He says, Connor nodding. “How many times have you tried to hurt yourself?”

Connor sighs, because he really doesn’t know the answer to that.

He can remember the first time he had heard about cutting. It was in a book he had checked out from the library, where the main character thought that that was her only way to cope with her life. Connor knew his life wasn’t nearly as bad as the girl’s, but even when he wasn’t reading his mind wandered to how cutting would feel, and if it really did release the pain he had been feeling inside.

He remembers taking his dad’s pocket knife from the garage when he was away on a work trip, bringing it up to his room and stashing it under his bed. He waits until he’s home alone the first time he does it, eyeing the blade for a moment before he gently presses it to his wrist, waiting until blood starts trickling down his arm before he lets go.

The pain is searing, and he hisses as he stares at the cut that he’s left behind. After a moment he finds that he likes the pain, surprised that it does seem to take the pain away from his life for a moment.

He leaves three more before forcing himself to stop, shoving the knife back under his bed and grabbing a tissue to stop the bleeding.

“I don’t know how many times,” Connor admits after a moment, looking back at the therapist that he decides he doesn’t hate. “I’ve um, I’ve done it a lot. I don’t know how often I have, I’ve never kept track.”

“Have you cut anywhere else besides your wrist? Or tried any other self-harming techniques?” Dr. James doesn’t have much emotion behind his voice, and Connor can’t decide if he likes that or not.

He takes a deep breath, shifting his feet uncomfortably underneath the blanket. “On my thighs,” Connor mumbles, leaning his head back against the pillow, his eyes blurring with tears. “I um, I’ve cut on my thighs. I’ve never done anything else.”

Dr. James nods, and the silence makes Connor wonder if this is over. “Just a few more questions and then I’ll leave you be for the afternoon.” Connor nods, although he really doesn’t think he has the energy to keep going with this.

“Do you use alcohol and drugs to cope with how you feel?”

Connor nods, biting his lip. He can’t talk about this, he doesn’t want to talk about this. He just wants Dr. James to leave and everyone to just leave him alone so he can stop his head from spinning and stop every thought that’s running through his mind. He just wants someone to give him something that will make him sleep, but he doesn’t think he’s going to win that battle.

“What have you used, Connor? It’s important that you’re honest.” Connor almost rolls his eyes at that. He _knows_ he needs to be honest, Dr. James has only said that a million times. He just doesn’t think that Dr. James knows how hard that is for him, how hard it is for him to just say everything he had been bottling up for years.

“Just weed,” Connor admits, not missing Dr. James’ look. Connor thinks Dr. James is skeptical, but for once he’s actually telling the truth.

“Did it make you feel better?”

Connor nods, balling his good hand into a fist and releasing when his nails would sting his palms. “It made me forget about how fucked up I am. It made me forget about how bad my life is, and how I ruin things for everyone. It’s the only thing that made me feel like things were okay.”

Dr. James nods, writing a few more things down before he closes his book, standing up. “I know that wasn’t easy, Connor. I know this is hard for you, but you did really well. I’m going to talk to your parents, but I’ll see you soon. Keep focusing on getting better.” Dr. James reaches out to shake his hand, Connor limply complying as he watches him walk out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

All Connor had wanted was quiet. All he wanted was for Dr. James to leave, to give him a moment without his mother hovering or his father sitting in the corner of the room with eyes on him at all times, and just let him breathe. But now that he got what he wanted, it was too quiet. He felt like his skin was too tight, that he wasn’t able to take a deep breath. Nothing felt right, and all he wanted was to just disappear and find a way to feel better.

Nothing works to calm him down.

The door opens to reveal Jane, who smiles at Connor as she walks over to the side of the bed. “Just going to check your vitals quickly,” She says, which Connor doesn’t respond to. She doesn’t react, and Connor thinks she must be used to it. “Your blood pressure and pulse are a little high, Connor. Can you take some deep breaths? If not I’ll have to put you back on the oxygen,” She says, moving to take his temperature while Connor focuses on his breathing.

She takes his vitals once more, smiling as she hangs the blood pressure cuff back on the wall. “Much better. I know it’s from the psych session, but we need to keep those vitals stable. I’ll be in soon to check again,” She says, and this time Connor nods. “Your parents are just finishing up talking to Dr. James and then they’ll be back. Just hold tight for me,” She smiles, patting his shoulder before leaving the room.

Connor gets a minute alone before his parents are walking in, sympathetic smiles on their faces. Connor thinks that’s the worst part of all of this. Everyone just looks at him with these sad eyes, like he’s made of glass and if they just act normal around him he’ll break. He hates it, and he wishes everyone would just ignore him if they’re going to play the sympathy card.

“Dr. James said you did really well,” Cynthia says, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair. She makes a note to ask Zoe to bring dry shampoo.

Connor just sighs, but he doesn’t move to dodge Cynthia’s touch. He’s too tired, and she’s the only one he can take being overbearing right now. He feels like she deserves to coddle him the way she has been. She’s the only one who ever cared, and now he’s putting her through this.

“I know this isn’t easy, Connor. But I promise we’re going to get you the help you need to get through this. We’re going to start on medications that will hopefully work this time. We just need you to work with us. Can you do that?”

It’s a simple request, really, and one that Connor shouldn’t have any hesitation answering. But he does, and he hates that the longer he waits to say something the more distraught his mother looks. “You're going to send me away again, aren’t you?”

Cynthia’s eyebrows furrow, shaking her head as she looks at her son. “Connor, what?”

Connor laughs bitterly, using his good hand to rub at his eyes. “Dr. James probably told you that I’m the most depressed and anxious person he’s ever seen, and he told you to send me to some rehab that’s going to try to magically cure me? It’ll be different than the last one you sent me to, that's probably what he told you. That’s what happened, isn’t it?” The bitterness behind his voice scares Cynthia, who helplessly glances at her husband.

“Connor, we’re not sending you away,” Larry says, stepping into the conversation. Connor’s head snaps to look at him, his eyes vacant.

“You have before. What’s stopping you now?” He challenges, and no amount of rubbing Connor’s shoulder is going to calm him down. “What’s stopping you from sending me away for months again this time? Huh?”

Larry takes a deep breath, taking a step forward to Connor’s bedside. “You need to calm down, Connor,” He says, which really only makes Connor angrier. “We are not sending you away. We are going to work on this at home, and we’re going to get you the help you need from here. You’re not being shipped off like you think.”

Connor’s hands shake with anger, but he doesn’t say anything to his parents. Larry seems to notice his son’s demeanor, and when Jane comes back in he asks if Connor can have something to calm down.

Connor doesn’t protest the medication being inserted into his IV, and where Jane once stood is replaced by Cynthia once again. “Just get some rest, sweetheart. We can talk about this later,” She says, and Connor lets his eyes close.

Cynthia and Larry have never felt more lost and helpless than in that moment, and not even silent glances between them seem to reassure either of them.

—

The weekend arrives and Evan welcomes the few days off, his head still slightly spinning at everything that had happened the last few days. He still sees Connor sitting lifeless against the tree when he closes his eyes sometimes, but he doesn’t bring it up. His mom’s been picking up extra shifts at work and Zoe has to deal with everything surrounding Connor and he doesn’t think she needs more on her plate. So he hides it, pretends like he’s not affected by everything going on and his anxiety isn't through the roof because of it.

Zoe’s pressed against his side while they’re watching a movie, Heidi on her way home from work. Zoe had been spending more time with them, which really wasn’t an issue, Evan knows. No one would complain about spending more time with their girlfriend, but he wonders if they’re spending time together for all the wrong reasons.

“I never had a chance to thank you for the advice you gave me about talking to Connor the other night,” Zoe says quietly, looking up at Evan from where her head had fallen to his lap. “It was really helpful. We talked, and I don’t know if he’s going to let me in, but it was a start.”

Evan nods, his hands tangled in Zoe’s hair. He doesn’t know what to say, because in all honesty he was still a little hurt that Zoe had talked to his mom before she talked to him. “U-um, why did you um, why did you talk to my mom about this before me?” He asks quickly, cringing when he realizes what he said.

Zoe sits up, looking at him in concern as she shakes her head. “Evan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to talk to her before I talked to you. That night was just a lot and it was the first chance I had to talk to someone, and I was going to tell you, too. I wanted to tell you, just not in front of Alana and Jared. I didn’t want them to know everything, not yet,” She says quietly, Evan nodding.

“I-it’s okay. It’s really not that um, not that big? I just, I didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t talk to me,” He says, Zoe immediately nodding.

“I should've told you sooner, I’m sorry. But you’re the reason I had the courage to talk to Connor at all,” She says, Evan nodding quickly. “I would never intentionally leave you out of this, I promise. There’s just a lot going on in my mind and sometimes things just spill out about how I’m feeling and things. I love you, and I promise you this isn’t going to happen again.”

Evan nods, leaning forward to kiss her gently. He doesn’t have words, so he figures that’s the next best thing. Zoe smiles at him when they pull apart, reaching out to rub her hand against his cheek. “So, are we okay?” She asks, looking at Evan expectedly.

Evan nods quickly, leaning forward to kiss her again.

One day this will all make sense to everyone. But until then he and Zoe are going to have to lean on each other, and so the explanation and straightening things out seems more than warranted in that moment.

All he wants is for Zoe’s promise that that she’ll talk to him before his mom to be true. That he can be the one to help her through all of this without his mom stepping in every time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everyone had a nice thanksgiving if you celebrate! and that you loved deh on the parade as much as i did :)
> 
> connor will be integrated more into the family through the next few chapters, i'm just working my way into it! thank you as always for the love/comments/kudos/reads and everything else. i love reading/replying to comments and seeing that people seem to be enjoying the story!
> 
> you can talk to me on tumblr at for-f0rever.tumblr.com if you'd like! you don't have to be shy i promise i don't bite i'm just a shy person who wants friends :)
> 
> more on monday!


	9. nine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where they make plans for Connor to come home, which makes Zoe conflicted

Going to the hospital is getting easier for Zoe with each passing day. She doesn’t know if it’s because Connor is doing better or because they have him on new meds that seem to be doing their job for now, but it’s not nearly as tense in his room as it was those first few days.

She finds it hard to believe that it had been a week since this all happened. Since Connor thought the only way to get better was to end his life. In so many ways it feels like it’s been a lifetime, but at the same time she feels like she just got that call from Evan telling her that he had found Connor, and he was being taken to the hospital.

She smiles at the nurses in the reception area, signing in and taking her sticker to put on her shirt. She’s grown so used to Ms. Hansen greeting her there that she’s surprised when she doesn’t see her, but doesn’t bother to ask where she is. She just walks down the hall like she has for most days of the last week, pushing the door open to Connor’s room.

The first thing she notices is the blinds are open, which really surprises her more than it should. Connor hated letting light in, and she figures this must be her mom’s doing. Connor doesn’t seem upset though, and Zoe wonders if they’re taking a turn with all of this. That maybe he really is trying to get better.

But then her eyes focus on Connor again, and she thinks he looks paler than normal. He’s definitely awake, but Zoe thinks he may be zoned out judging by how he’s looking at her.

Cynthia seems to notice Zoe’s eyes on her brother, turning her attention to her daughter as she smiles. “He’s okay, sweetheart. They had him start on some new medication and you know how that is. Just trying to adjust to how he’s feeling. He also had a scan this morning they had to wake him up for and he didn’t get much sleep,” Cynthia soothes, although Zoe isn’t convinced.

She nods anyway, walking in and setting her bag down, standing by Connor’s bedside. “Hey, Connor,” She says quietly, Connor letting his head fall to look at her. Zoe thinks she sees a smile, but she doesn’t push it.

“Have you been going to school?” Connor asks, which really is the last thing that Zoe ever thinks she’d hear her brother ask. She sighs, shaking her head.

“I haven’t gone since um, since everything happened,” She admits, and Connor nods slowly. “I’m going back tomorrow.”

Cynthia raises her eyebrows, looking at her daughter. “You are?”

Zoe’s eyes shift from Connor to Cynthia, nodding. “I was only excused for last week, and there’s only so much I can do sitting at home or coming to the hospital. I don’t want to fall too far behind.”

Cynthia nods, but Zoe knows she’s disappointed.

She really isn’t sure what her mom was expecting when they were starting this journey. In some ways she wonders if Cynthia thought Zoe would walk into her brother’s hospital room and forgive him for everything he’s ever done and said to her over the last few years. But Zoe knows that’s not how life works, and it’s going to take time before she and Connor even make the slightest of progress.

Connor just sighs, blinking slowly before letting his eyes close. He can’t take the tension right now, and decides if he can’t remove himself from it forever, he might as well just try to sleep through it and pray for a miracle that when he wakes up things will magically be perfect.

—

Larry doesn’t know what to say to Cynthia, or Connor, or anyone about what’s going on. He wonders if there’s anything that would make this better, but he knows if there is, it’s not going to come from him.

Larry can’t remember the last time his and Connor’s relationship was healthy. He doesn’t remember the last time the two of them had anything in common, or they weren’t fighting about Connor’s habits.

He likes to think he’s tried to make amends, to try and find something that they could have in common or at least share with each other, but his fights with Cynthia would say otherwise. Cynthia had always been getting on him to cut Connor some slack, that punishments that they’ve tried just made things worse. He disagrees, but it got to a point where the fights no longer became worth it and Larry knew he wasn’t going to ever get his way.

So he took a passive approach to all of this. He took a step back in Connor’s life, only stepping in to yell at him for his excessive use of weed, or his slipping grades. It only made Connor angrier, but Larry didn’t know what else to do. He hated thinking that his own son was a lost cause, but he wasn’t sure what else to call it.

“He’s going to be coming home in a day or two,” Cynthia says quietly, fussing with the blanket draped around Connor. They all know she does it to keep herself busy, but no one protests.

Larry glances over his computer, his lips pressed in a thin line as he nods, closing the lid and walking towards his son’s bed. “We need to start a new plan for at home. Take some of Dr. James’ advice about how to prepare ourselves for him being back in the house,” Larry says, which Cynthia only nods to.

Larry can tell she’s not going to advance the conversation any further, and he knows he needs to take it upon himself. “We should take his door off the hinges for the time being,” He says, Cynthia’s head snapping up to look at him. Her eyes are pleading for another solution, but she can’t find the words to protest. “I’ll go through his room tonight, take out anything that he could use to harm himself or try to do something like this again.”

Cynthia nods, her eyes trailing back to her son as he sleeps peacefully in the hospital bed he had began to call home. “We need to lock up all the pills and medications,” She mumbles, her voice breaking as her eyes stay fixed on her little boy. “If anyone needs medicine you and I are going to have to give it to them. I hate to punish Zoe but…”

“This needs to be done. For Connor’s safety,” Larry finishes, reaching across the bed to rub his wife’s arm when she nods.

Connor takes a deep breath and shifts underneath Cynthia’s touch, and for a moment Larry is transported back to when Connor had pneumonia when he was 7. He remembers the late night emergency room visit with a wheezing little boy in his arms, how he looked far too small for the hospital bed as the doctors got him started on a breathing treatment, trying to make things easier for him.

All Connor wanted was Cynthia then, holding her hand and cuddling with her when they were sent home from the hospital, and at night when she and Larry would go up to bed they spent far too long in their then little boy’s room, checking on him and making him comfortable before they went to bed themselves.

Now Connor is laying in a hospital bed after trying to take his own life for the third time, and so many things are uncertain about the future. Larry knows this needs to be a new start for all of them, and he’s praying that he can somehow figure out how to do that.

—

Connor has never felt more like he was suffocating than he does with his parents on one side of his hospital bed, and Dr. James and Dr. Nichols on the other. He thinks about faking an illness, spiking his vitals so that they’re forced to stop whatever it is they’re going to talk about, but then he knows the nurses will be in more if he does that and all he really wants is to be left alone.

So he decides to bear the pain of whatever conversation is about to happen, picking at the fraying edges of one of his many medical bracelets on his wrist.

“Connor, we’re going to begin talking about transitioning you out of the hospital and back home,” Dr. James begins, Connor looking up for a brief second.

“Home?” He asks, because yeah, that’s not something he thought he was going to hear today. Or anytime soon, really.

Dr. James just gives him a small smile, nodding. “You’ve been on medication for quite a few days now, and you haven’t had any adverse reactions to it. In the last few therapy sessions we’ve had I think we’re making slow but sure progress, and I do think we’re headed in the right direction. Keeping you in the hospital on psychiatric hold doesn’t seem appropriate at this point.”

“And sending me away doesn’t sound like the right option either?” Connor asks, watching his mother’s head fall from the corner of his eye. Connor knows both she and his dad had told him countless amount of times that they weren’t sending him away, but they had also said that before he was sent to rehab the first time.

He can’t help but not trust them.

Dr. James’ smile falters for a moment, writing a few things down in his notebook. Connor only worries more.

“Connor, right now we feel that you being home and in a family environment is the best option for you to work on getting better. Your health is still recovering in addition to working on the depression and anxiety, and we find that patients your age tend to do better when they’re put in a family environment. Even if the family is causing some of the turmoil. We know this isn’t your first attempt, and that putting you back in your family environment wasn’t the right decision last time, but we’re working with the whole family to ensure that this works for you and everyone.”

After four sessions Dr. James had learned a lot about what made Connor tick, and most of it having to do with his dad and sister. He didn’t have as much of a problem with his mom, but he did hate how smothering she could be at times. Connor trusts that Dr. James spoke to them about that.

He only nods at Dr. James, leaning back against the pillows as he prays that that’s the end of the conversation. Dr. Nichols leans forward, and Connor knows he was wrong about them leaving.

“Now, obviously you’re still recovering from the surgery and the kidney issues that have been going on since you were admitted, and that’s not going to change when you transition back home. We’re going to wean you off of the IV medicine today, I want you up and walking more than normal, and we’ll go from there,” He says, Connor liking how blunt he was about all of this. “This is not going to be easy. Recovering from suicide attempts is never easy, as I’m sure you know. But if I’ve ever seen someone resilient enough to get through it, it’d be you.”

Connor laughs at that, mostly because he doesn’t think it could be any further from the truth.

“You’ll have doctors appointments with Dr. Nichols to make sure you’re healing well, and I’ll be seeing you three times a week to start,” Dr. James says, Connor looking over at him in shock. “We’ll adjust the schedule as we go along based on how you’re doing away from the hospital and back into your environment,” He quickly tacks on when he notices that Connor is ready to protest.

And really, Connor can live with that.

He thinks he can live with all of this, as long as his family somehow manages to change along with him. He just hopes that they’ll work with him, too.

—

It’s a school night, and Evan is very aware that the last place he should be is the Murphy’s. But in the short texts he’s received from Zoe that day, he knows she needs him. Heidi tells him to invite Zoe over to their place, but Evan thinks she needs to be alone, and so he makes his way over after he spends dinner with Heidi on one of the only nights she has off from work.

Zoe lays with her head in Evan’s lap while they watch a movie, Evan spending most of the time wondering how he was going to ask Zoe if she was okay without annoying her.

“You um, your texts seemed like something was wrong. Are you…are you okay?” Evan asks when Zoe sits up to shut off the movie, shaking his head quickly when Zoe looks at him. “Sorry, sorry, you probably are fine and you just don’t want to talk about it and I shouldn’t have asked.”

Zoe laughs at that, shifting to face him on the sofa, leaning against the back. “You’re really sweet, you know? Asking me even though I haven’t said anything,” She smiles, reaching out to take his hand. “I just have a lot on my mind, you know? There’s a lot happening.”

“Did you um, did you want to talk about it?”

Zoe’s silent for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip as she stares at her lap. “Connor is coming home tomorrow or the next day,” She mumbles, smiling as she shakes her head. “I mean, I guess it’s a good thing, you know? They think he’s made enough progress and the medication is helping enough to be put back into our environment. But I feel like there’s so much that needs to change that just…it just hasn’t,” She sighs, Evan nodding quickly.

“I know I’ve kind of shielded you away from Connor since we’ve been dating, I know you only really know him based on what you saw in school and sometimes when you come over here but Connor…Connor hasn’t been a great person to me in years,” She says, biting her lip. She doesn’t know why she feels like she’s going to cry.

“And you think him coming home is just going to keep making him like this? That nothing will change?”

Zoe smiles, nodding. “Exactly,” She whispers, playing with the fraying on her jeans. “I want Connor to get better, I really, _really_ do. I just don’t know if I can trust that this will be the time that works. I’ve gotten my hopes up too many times to think that this time will be any different.”

Evan’s silent for a moment, moving himself closer to Zoe, resting his hand against her shoulder. “You um, you know that if things ever get tough here, if this…if this becomes too much you can always come to my house?” He offers, Zoe nodding quickly. “My mom loves you, and um, she would want you to feel like you’re safe. I think deep down, Connor would want that, too.”

Zoe just nods, thanking him quietly as she takes his hand, kissing the back of it softly. “You’re the best,” She whispers, Evan just smiling.

Things don’t feel right to Zoe, but it’s reality.

She’s just learning how to deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there will be a lot more murphy sibling content coming, promise! and zoe and evan obviously. jared and alana will be back soon too!
> 
> thank you for all the reads/kudos/comments on this :) i love reading and replying to them!
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> more friday!


	10. ten.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where connor comes home and zoe starts back at school

Cynthia quietly moves around her son’s hospital room, packing up the things that they had left laying around over the last week and a half. She finds it hard to believe that Connor is coming home today and the two of them are going to be back with the family instead of being split up while he recovered.

Connor was asleep for the first time in hours after a night full of restlessness. Cynthia stayed awake with him, holding his hand as they watched a movie , checking multiple times to see if he had finally closed his eyes. They didn’t say much in those early hours of the morning where the only disruptions were from the nurses making their rounds, but Cynthia thinks them not saying anything is more appreciative to Connor than anything else.

Jane comes in, smiling at Cynthia as she sets her things down on the table. “I hear someone is going home today,” She says, Cynthia nodding as she folds the blanket she had been using at night, setting it on the arm of the chair she used as her bed.

She turns to watch Jane carefully take Connor’s vitals, Connor only stirring when she lifted his arm to take his blood pressure. “I can’t thank you enough for being so patient with Connor. I know it probably wasn’t easy at times,” Cynthia says quietly, Jane hanging up the blood pressure cuff as she smiles.

“Mrs. Murphy, I can assure you I’ve dealt with patients far worse than Connor. He was almost a dream, honestly. We all have bad days and moments, but hopefully this is the start of better days for him. He’s a good kid deep down,” She says, and if Cynthia had any tears left she’s fairly sure she would’ve started crying.

She thanks her quietly, Jane writing a few things down on Connor’s chart before attaching it to the end of his bed. “I’ll be back in for some final vitals and to remove his IV as soon as Dr. Nichols gives him the all clear. Let me know if either of you need anything,” She smiles, slipping out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

Cynthia takes slow steps to her son’s bed, sitting down on the edge. She reaches forward, running her fingers through his knotted and greasy hair, biting back a smile as she looks at his innocent sleeping face. She’s transported back to when he was little and unable to fall asleep, and she’d lay with him for hours.

Back then he’d talk about the stars on his ceiling, or dinosaurs he’d been reading about in his books. He’d curl up against her side, his breath hot against her neck as his body would go limp in her arms. She’d ask him what he wanted to be when he grew up, to which he always answered a firefighter. He’d tell her jokes until his laughs would be silent and tears would be running from both of their eyes. She had tried to capture those moments in her mind and heart, never wanting to forget the innocence and hopefulness in his eyes.

Now she watches him from her spot on the edge of his hospital bed, his face pale and features gaunt. The tears from laughter are replaced by tears of grief, and the hopefulness and wonder of what the future would bring for her little boy had revealed pain and heartache.

She doesn’t know what transitioning home is going to be like, and that may be what scares her the most. She and Larry had been having meetings and sessions with Dr. James away from Connor, discussing triggers for Connor and what needed to be done as a family to ensure his safety. She wrote everything down, studied the pamphlets and packets that Dr. James had given them long after Connor had fallen asleep for the night. She memorized what made Connor tick, what to do when he’s having a bad day, and how they can be sure that they're taking steps in the right direction.

Cynthia is aware it’s not going to be easy. Connor is probably going to have more bad days than good for a while, and she tries telling herself that that’s okay. They’re all learning, they’re all adjusting to this new life, and it’s not going to happen right away. She figures if Connor can fight through the constant asking of questions, a psych evaluation and new medications for a week and a half, they can work to get better for him.

Connor stirs underneath her touch, blinking blearily as he stares up at her. Cynthia thinks he’ll be annoyed that she’s hovering again, but he just yawns and stares up at her. “What time is it?” He asks, Cynthia smiling as she glances at her watch.

“Just after 10,” She says, biting her lip as she removes her hand from her son’s hair. “Did you sleep okay?” She asks, Connor nodding slowly as he pushes himself to sit up, looking around the room.

“Where’s Dad?”

Cynthia sighs, standing up from the bed to sit back down in the chair. She knew this question was coming, but in a sleepy haze and a plan to pack things up, she hadn’t thought about how she would answer it. “He’s at home right now. Getting Zoe to school and then cleaning up a few things.”

Connor nods, but Cynthia thinks he seems disappointed his dad isn’t there like he normally is now that Connor is on normal visiting hours. “Am I still going home today?”

“I haven’t heard any different,” Cynthia smiles, reaching out to take her son’s hand. “But while we’re talking about home, I think now is as good of a time as any to talk about what’s going to change once we’re there,” She says, praying that this doesn’t set Connor off.

He just nods as if he knew this was coming, and Cynthia isn’t sure if that makes her feel better or worse.

“You dad is taking your bedroom door off the hinges,” She starts with, bracing herself for Connor’s reaction. He sighs, staring at the wall in front of him. “I know it seems extreme, but it’s to keep you safe, sweetheart. We can’t have anything happen like this again,” She says, Connor nodding.

“All the medicine is locked up. I’ll give you your medications myself, and if you’re sick or something we’ll get you any other medicine you need. This goes for Zoe, too. She’s not going to have access to any of the medicine either.”

Connor’s eyes widen, shifting his attention to his mom. “But she didn’t…I didn’t…This isn’t her fault,” He finally says, and for the first time in a while Cynthia hears emotion behind her son’s voice.

She nods slowly, sucking in a deep breath. She thinks about reaching out for Connor’s hand, but his body language tells her otherwise. “It's not, baby, you’re right. But we need to do whatever we have to do to keep you safe. Zoe wants you safe too, Connor, even if it means she has to give up some of her own freedom.”

The room is silent for a moment, Connor shifting underneath the blankets. There’s bags under his eyes, and Cynthia has half a mind to tell him to go back to sleep, that she’ll wake him up when they’re ready to leave. But she hears him take a shaky breath, and he bites his lip so hard that Cynthia watches the edges around it turn white.

“I’m…sorry,” He says quietly when he lets his lip go, shaking his head. “I’m sorry for putting you guys through this so much. I’m sorry I’m such a burden and that…and that you’re constantly having to focus all your attention on me,” He rambles. Cynthia goes to protest, but Connor brings his hand up to wipe his eyes, taking a deep breath before speaking again.

“I can’t…I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I don’t know how to stop though. I don’t know how to just…just wake up and be happy. I want to be happy, Mom. I don’t want to kill myself, but I don’t want to be like this anymore. Killing myself was the only thing I thought would fix things. Nothing else is working.”

The tears are falling quickly now, landing on the bandages on his wrist. Cynthia doesn’t know what else to do, and so she pushes back the worries that she’s smothering him out of her mind, standing up and pulling him against her chest. He fully sobs then, his body shaking as she rubs his back underneath his hospital gown, kissing the side of his head.

“Oh, Connor,” She whispers, rocking them back and forth. “I’m so sorry I let you slip away, that I let it get this far. We’re going to do everything we can to get you better, and even if you don’t believe it right now, I promise you everything is going to be okay.”

Connor falls back against his pillow, hiccuping as he wipes away the tears quickly.

Cynthia hums under her breath until he falls back to sleep, excusing herself to the bathroom to cry.

She doesn’t feel anymore helpful than she ever has before, and she can’t help but wonder if bringing Connor home that afternoon really is the right move when everyone is still so fragile surrounding his upcoming care.

—

Zoe prepared herself for people to stare at her. She prepared for the whispers under their breath, the pointing. The speculating about her brother and how he had tried to kill himself this time, and how he was probably still a freak.

She hadn’t prepared herself for people to confront her.

She gave Evan a quick kiss as he ran off to his homeroom to work on a last minute worksheet with a classmate, stopping by her locker to grab her things. She heard footsteps getting closer before they stopped, and when she closed her locker she found Colin Harris standing there, leaning against the wall.

“Heard your brother tried to kill himself again,” He says, Zoe shaking her head as she shoves her books into her bag. “What was it this time? Obviously he didn’t try hard enough.”

“Fuck you, honestly,” Zoe says, standing back up and looking at him. “You’ve hated Connor our whole lives, but I thought maybe you would’ve had some compassion when you found this out. Guess the jokes on me.”

Colin laughs, his friends standing behind him. Zoe should’ve felt threatened, really, but all she can think about is Connor and how he really needs someone to stand up for him.

“Your brother is a freak. He hates you, too. Why are you suddenly acting like you two are best friends and he needs you to protect him? I’m sure things are just going to go back to the way they were whenever they decide to let him home from the mental hospital.”

Zoe’s seething by now, gritting her teeth and taking a deep breath as she looks back at the boy she had known since she was born. She never saw why Connor hated him until now, when all she wanted to do was punch him in the face. “You’re a fucking asshole. My brother isn’t a freak, and he doesn’t hate me.”

She turns on her heels quickly, walking down the hall and into her classroom. Jared goes to say something, frowning when she slips into her seat and slams her head down into her hands. She’s breathing heavy, and if Jared didn’t know any better he would figure she was trying not to cry.

“Hey,” He says softly, sinking into the chair beside her. “Is everything okay?”

Zoe sighs, pulling her head up from her hands and looking over towards her friend. “People suck,” She mumbles, wiping under her eyes as she tries to smile. “I’ll be fine.”

Jared just nods, and before he has a chance to say anything else their teacher begins class, leaving him to sink back in his seat and let his mind worry about what happened with Zoe before class.

Somehow Zoe makes it to lunch, but judging by the looks she gives Evan, Alana, and Jared, they know it hasn’t been a good day. Alana thinks about saying something, but Zoe beats her to it.

“Why are people such assholes?” She blurts out, digging through her bag and pulling out her lunch.

Alana frowns, looking back across the table. “Have things really been that bad?” She asks, Zoe only rolling her eyes.

“If I have one more person mutter how Connor lived again and how much he sucks at killing himself I’m going to punch them in the face,” She says, pulling out her sandwich and setting it out in front of her. “I mean…yeah we have a fucked relationship but like? He's my brother,” Zoe says, the other three nodding quickly. “Contrary to what people think, I don't want him _dead_.”

There’s an awkward silence at the table then, one that Zoe knows she’s caused. Of course they knew she didn’t want him dead — no matter how horrible Connor is, Zoe isn’t that mean. Now she finds that there’s an awkwardness between the four of them, and she struggles to think of something to say that will make all of this just seem…better.

“I’m um, I’m sure it’ll get better,” Evan finally says, Zoe looking in his direction and smiling. “Like, people will stop mumbling things around you soon I’m sure. Not that it makes it any better now, cause like, they don’t even know Connor? They shouldn’t be saying things like that?”

Zoe just nods, leaning over and kissing his cheek quickly. She’d be much happier if all of this just disappeared, but she also has an inkling that this is going to be her new normal for a while.

Which, okay. She’ll somehow make amends with it, even if it’s the worst thing that could happen to her.

—

Connor has never been so grateful to see the front door of his home as he is when they pull up after his stay in the hospital. The Fall wreath hangs like it had the day everything happened, and generally it looks like his home had stayed stuck in the world before his suicide, rather than moving along with them as he got better.

There’s a candle burning in the kitchen when they walk in, Larry carrying the bag Cynthia had brought to the hospital for she and Connor right when he had been admitted. It’s the first time Connor feels like he’s been relieved to be back home.

“Why don’t you get settled on the sofa, sweetheart. Or you can go up to your room if you’d like,” Cynthia says from behind him, her hand resting against his back.

Connor _really_ wants to go to his room. He wants nothing more than to distance himself from his parents, have that bit of freedom he had been longing for while he had been in the hospital. His mom hadn’t left his side in over a week, and as reassuring as it was to feel like there was going to be a change, he had to admit that it was getting a little smothering.

But he also knows that he just got out of the hospital after a suicide attempt, and well, she has a reason to be worried about him. This isn’t the first time he’s put them through this. And after every attempt he’s come home and shut himself away, wanting to ignore the fact that he’s fully aware nothing will ever change. This time doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen, no matter how skeptical he is about all of it.

Dr. James’ words ring through his ears, their last session happening just an hour before Connor was released. He reminded him how to cope with his family and being back in an environment that had been a trigger for him for the last few years. He reminded him to not isolate himself, to allow the help that his family wants to give.  
And so he kicks off his shoes, and makes way over to the sofa, reaching for the remote.

He doesn’t miss the beaming smile his mother gave, and how she looks like her heart is going to beat out of her chest.

She grabs a blanket from the basket, bringing it over to Connor and draping it over him. Connor can feel himself getting agitated, feeling the anger bubbling up that she’s smothering him and how he just wants to be left alone, but this is a big deal for her. So he swallows his words and does his best to smile, which he thinks may have turned out as a grimace.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything,” She says softly, leaving a kiss on his forehead before she disappears into the other room.

The TV serves as a distraction, which he thinks is a good thing. His mind isn’t swarmed with negative thoughts. Both of his parents are home and giving him space, and although there’s major changes, none of them have agitated him to the point where he’s had to use coping mechanisms.

So there’s been progress.

The front door slams just over an hour later, and Connor shuts his eyes and pretends to be asleep. He’s fully aware it’s Zoe, and while it may seem like he’s pushing her away, he thinks he’s just mentally exhausted.

Or that’s what he’s telling himself.

“Hi, sweetheart. How was your first day back?” Their mom had always had a sweet tone to her voice, one that made you believe she genuinely cared about how they were feeling.

Zoe only laughs bitterly, and Connor hears her backpack drop to the floor, her shoes being kicked off and dropped into her bin.

“Just great, Mom,” She says, sarcasm dripping from every word. “How would you like to be the center of attention, people mumbling things about you when you walk by. Fucking Colin Harris saying things to my face about how Connor hates me.”

Connor cringes at that, pulling the blanket further up over him, a lame attempt at trying to block out the conversation in the next room over.

“Zoe,” Cynthia begins, and Connor’s positive she’s frowning. The tone of voice gives it away. He thinks she wants to lecture her daughter, telling her not to swear and reminding her that he’s in the other room and can probably hear this. But she doesn’t, and instead there’s just an awkward silence between them both.

“Just forget it,” Zoe says sharply, the fridge door slamming. “I’m just…I’m just going to go up to my room. I’ll be down in a little bit.”

Zoe’s footsteps trail upstairs, but Connor can hear footsteps walk into the room. He thinks about opening his eyes, but he doesn’t know if he can have a conversation right now, not with so many thoughts swirling around in his mind.

“Connor, are you awake?” His mother’s voice is so timid that Connor almost feels bad, and so reluctantly, he parts his eyes. He notices the sympathetic smile on her face, watching her walk over and sit down on the edge of the sofa. “If you want to sleep you can, it’s okay.”

Connor pushes himself to sit up, running his fingers through his greasy hair and cringing at that. A real shower was definitely on the cards at some point today.

Cynthia doesn’t say anything, but Connor knows she doesn’t have to. “That um…it’s my fault, isn’t it?” He asks, met with confusion on Cynthia’s face. “What Zoe was upset about…it’s because of me. Like, they’re only saying things because of me.”

Cynthia pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on it. Connor knows she doesn’t have an argument to that, because he’s right. “It’s just going to take some getting used to on all of our parts. She’ll be okay, Connor. Please don’t blame yourself for this.”

Connor just sighs, falling back against the pillows as he suppresses a yawn. “Don’t want her to hate me anymore,” He mumbles, Cynthia’s hand reaching out to rub his shoulder.

She pulls back when he tenses underneath her touch.

“She doesn’t hate you, Connor. None of us do,” She reminds him, although it’s not helping anymore. Connor can’t think that at least Zoe doesn’t hate him, not when he’s been awful to her. “This is an adjustment period. We’ll figure it out, I promise you,” She soothes, standing up when Connor doesn’t say anything.

“Get some rest, I’m going to go get started on dinner.”

Connor shuts his eyes again, the lull of the TV and the sheer exhaustion finally willing him to sleep.

He doesn’t stop thinking about how hurt Zoe is the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another longer chapter than i thought omg but connor is finally home! there's going to be more murphy family content from here on out, but also evan/alana/jared :)
> 
> thank you as always for reading/commenting/liking this story! :)
> 
> you can come talk to me on tumblr if you want! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> more on tuesday!


	11. eleven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where connor adjusts to being home and zoe is faced with a decision

Connor’s footsteps are heavy as he drags himself up the hardwood stairs, exhaustion seeping through his bones. All he can think about is a shower and his bed, the sheer thought of not having a door to his room not making him nearly as agitated as he thought it would.

Dinner went fine, he figures, as there was no major outburst by him or anyone else. They were quiet mostly, and Connor had managed to eat half of what was put on his plate. He didn’t miss the swat at Larry’s arm from Cynthia when he goes to protest that he needs to eat more, but he decides not to to bring attention to it.

That ends up being harder than he thought it would be.

He excuses himself from the table to go and take a shower, setting his things down in his room. Everything is left the same, which Connor finds a little eery. He has no doubts in his mind that anything that he could harm himself with had been taken out of his room, and the door had been hidden away where Connor wouldn’t be able to find it and reattach it while Larry was at work.

Connor wasn’t planning on ever going through that effort anyway.

The hospital bracelets line his wrist, and after opening his top desk drawer, Connor realizes that the scissors he had were seen as a threat. He rolls his eyes and pauses to take a few deep breaths to calm down, letting his shoulders fall as he walks across the hall, knocking on his sister’s door.

He really shouldn’t feel nervous, because most people don’t when they’re going to ask their sister something. Zoe seems just as surprised to see her brother standing before her, eyes cast to the floor.

“Did you need something?” She asks, apologizing quietly at how harsh it sounds. Connor doesn’t seem phased, not that that makes her feel any better.

“Can you um…do you have scissors?” He asks, forcing himself to look up at her. He’s annoyed at how nervous he is, and how timid she looks as she stands across from him. “I need to cut off the hospital bracelets, but Dad took my scissors from my top drawer.”

Zoe gives him a half smile, opening her door wider for him to come in. “I mean, that does make sense that he took them,” She says, to which Connor only shrugs. He knows she’s right.

Connor takes a moment to look around his sister’s room while she goes to grab the pair of scissors. It’s been years since he’s been in there, not without threatening her about something that she probably didn’t even do. He remembers all kinds of sleepovers with her in this room, watching the breeze through the backyard and thinking about all the adventures they could go on.

He wonders if they’ll ever be that close again.

Zoe fishes through her top drawer, pulling out her pair of scissors and walking back over to her brother. Connor notices her hands shaking slightly as she moves towards his wrist, but he doesn’t say anything.

She holds his hand lightly and manages to cut the three bracelets off without an issue, watching them fall onto the floor. Connor bends over and picks them up, fumbling with them in his hands as he looks back at her. “Thanks,” He mutters, Zoe smiling as she shoves the scissors back in her top drawer, turning back to face him.

“You’re welcome,” She says, watching as Connor turns to walk out of her room.

“Connor, wait,” She says, biting her lip when Connor actually listens, turning back to look at her. She’s not used to him not running away. “I’m um…I’m glad you’re home. And that you’re uh…you’re okay.”

Zoe swears she sees half a smile from Connor, but just as quickly as it came, it’s gone again. “Thanks,” He says quietly, walking out of the room and back into his without another word.

It’s the first time Zoe thinks Connor is being sincere in years.

—

Zoe falls into a routine, and eventually the whispers behind her back in the halls stop.

Or she’s just learned to tune them out. She isn’t quite sure which one.

Her teachers have been gracious at letting her catch up with her work, and while they give her sympathetic smiles each time she stays after to take a test or work on some class sheets, she’s learned to ignore them, too. She knows they mean well, but it’s really just getting suffocating at this point.

Alana and Jared had invited she and Evan to a club meeting after school, which is really the last thing Zoe feels like doing. But Connor is at therapy that afternoon and she’d be going home to an empty house, which is equally as enticing as the club is. Besides, Evan seems eager to go, and so she decides to appease him.

There’s a few other kids there, and it’s a club about leadership, which Zoe doesn’t feel qualified for. She thinks about leaving, lying and saying that her mom needs her home, but she knows Evan wouldn’t believe it. He knows far too much about her to believe that her mom would need her home.

The other kids at the club start to trickle out, and Zoe reaches in her bag for her car keys. She’s under the assumption that she’s driving Evan home, which is fine, really, because it means she’s away from her own home for longer.

“Zoe, the three of us thought of an idea that we wanted to talk to you about,” Alana says, Zoe sitting up and looking between the three of them. There’s an awkward silence, but eventually she nods, leaning back in the desk chair.

“So, after everything happened with Connor, we began thinking about how other kids may be in his position, and how they may be searching for help,” Alana begins, Zoe squirming in her seat. She knows she means well, really. She knows that this is probably going to be something to help people, but she's still wary about talking about Connor.

“We thought of maybe making an organization where we talk to people about their problems, maybe try to offer advice? And start a social media campaign to show people that they’re not alone, even when it feels like that they are.” Alana sounds hopeful that Zoe will be on board with the idea, but truthfully, Zoe doesn’t know how she feels.

She’s silent for a moment, processing everything in her mind. On the surface, the idea sounds like a great idea. Zoe isn’t a monster, and she does want people to realize that they’re not alone. But there’s something about it all that leaves her wondering if this is something she wants to be a part of, at least right now.

“I’m um, it sounds really nice,” Zoe says quietly, staring at the paper on the desk in front of her. “I’m just worried about being a part of it, you know? I know you guys probably aren’t doing this to bring attention to Connor, and I hope you know that Connor wouldn’t want to um, want to be the face of this,” She says, Alana and Jared nodding immediately. Evan nods as well, but Zoe thinks he already warned them about this.

“I just don’t want people to say that I didn’t even help my brother, but I’m willing to help these strangers,” She finally concludes, which feels a lot better once it’s out in the open than it did when she was biting back the words in her mouth.

Alana looks defeated, which Zoe would probably feel bad about at any other moment. “I completely understand. Just know that you can always be a part of it, and who cares what people says. I mean, you don’t talk about Connor much, but I think we all know that you’re working on helping him now. Or at least putting in more effort. There’s a lot to be said about that,” Alana says, Zoe nodding.

“I’ll sleep on it and let you know tomorrow?” Zoe says, which Alana and Jared both nod to, the group packing up their things.

Evan walks to Zoe’s car without even asking for a ride, slipping into the back seat after tossing his bag in the back along Zoe’s. They’re quiet while Zoe pulls out of the parking lot, the only sound coming from the music playing from Zoe’s phone plugged into the stereo. It’s the new Ed Sheeran song Evan thinks, but he doesn’t ask.

He doesn’t think now is the right time.

“I’m guessing you knew about the whole organization or whatever?” Zoe asks, breaking the silence when she pulls up to a red light. She gives Evan a smile that seems to calm him down slightly, and he nods quickly.

“I um…I wanted to tell you but. But they wanted to be there? I hope you’re not mad,” He says, Zoe shaking her head as her eyes are fixed on the road again.

“I’m not mad,” She says, which is reassuring to Evan in the oddest ways. “I get why you waited. I mean, there really hasn’t been a good time to talk to me about it anyway. Thanks for telling them about how I wouldn’t want it to be about Connor and everything, though.”

“How did you know?” Evan asks quickly, his eyes widening when she looks at him.

“You’re an awful liar,” She laughs, Evan relaxing back against the seat as he nods.

The silence takes over the car again, and The Lumineers play from the stereo. It’s the song Zoe always turns up and sings obnoxiously, but she doesn’t this time. She just hums along quietly, which honestly just feels wrong to Evan.

“How um, how have things with Connor been?” Evan asks, resisting the urge to apologize for asking. He’s been working on it, but it’s not been easy.

Zoe smiles, pulling up into Evan’s driveway and shifting the car into park. “It’s been…okay,” She concedes after a moment, shrugging. “Connor is Connor. He hasn’t threatened to kill me and we haven’t fought, but he also just seems spaced out most of the time? So we don’t really talk.”

“Probably the meds.”

“Definitely the meds,” Zoe agrees, leaning back in her seat. “Things haven’t been bad, but they haven’t been great. Besides that first day home when he asked me to cut his hospital bracelets off there’s been little interaction between us. Which sucks, but it’s not like I wasn’t expecting it.”

Evan hums some sort of response, fiddling with his hands for a moment. “Maybe if you made the first move to talk to him things would change?” He says, staring straight at his garage door in front of him. “Like, I know he’s been awful to you, but you um, you want things to change, right?”

Zoe nods, biting her lip.

“Maybe ask him to watch a movie or like, I don’t know. Is there anything you know he likes?”

Zoe laughs, shaking her head. “It’s like I don’t even know him.”

“So start now,” Evan says, shocking himself at how confident he sounds. “I um, I know you can do this, Zoe. I know…I know that it’s different now, but just give him time.”

Zoe sighs, turning to look at him. “Thank you,” She whispers, leaning over to kiss him.

Evan leaves her with another kiss and a promise to see her at school the next day, stepping out of the car and walking into his house.

Zoe turns down the music on her drive home, her boyfriend’s words echoing through her mind.

Reaching out to Connor felt too scary, but there were things she needed to do to help him, and this was probably one of them.

—

Zoe pulls into her driveway just a few minutes after Connor and Cynthia had arrived home from Connor’s therapy appointment, Cynthia smiling at her daughter as she walked in. “You’re home late,” She notes, which Zoe sighs at.

She knows why her mom makes those comments now, especially because Connor had run away more than his fair share of times and Cynthia worried about both of them. It doesn’t mean Zoe’s ever gotten used to it, or ever felt like her parents thought she was different from Connor.

Which she definitely was.

“Evan, Alana and Jared asked me to stay for a club they’re in. Some leadership thing?” She says, grabbing an apple from the bowl in the middle of the kitchen table, washing it off and sitting down at the island.

“That sounds nice,” Cynthia smiles, grabbing some things out of the freezer to start on dinner. “Do you think you’re going to join?”  
Zoe shrugs, swallowing the bite of her apple. “I’m not sure,” She says honestly, because really that club is the last place she ever thought she’d be or even want to be in. “I’m surprised Evan is in it, actually. But Ms. Hansen probably thought because Jared was in it it’d be good for Evan.”

Cynthia nods, walking over to the island and standing near her daughter. There’s a silence, but it’s not awkward. Zoe thinks it’s nice, actually, having her mom back at home and knowing Connor is in the house, too. It’s the normalcy she had been waiting for.

“Alana, Jared and Evan talked to me about some organization they’ve been thinking about starting,” Zoe says after a pause, keeping her voice quiet so Connor wouldn’t hear. She still feared that he would come down and lash out at her for no reason.

Although she figures this idea would probably be a good reason.

“Oh? What is it?” Cynthia asks, grabbing a tray from the cabinet.

Zoe takes a deep breath, leaning back in the chair as she watches her mom form the meatloaf with careful hands. “They want to like, start a support group? They think that there’s probably other people like Connor, and they want to reach out and show that they're not alone,” She says, and she’s surprised to see her mother smile at that. “They want to make like a club at school, but they also want to do stuff with social media to show people that they’re never alone.”

Cynthia nods, the smile on her face turning to concern as she looks at her daughter. “You’re not convinced on the idea, are you?” She asks, Zoe sighing as she shakes her head. She wants to be, but she’s not there yet.

“You don’t have to agree with it, Zoe, but I think it’s a nice idea. They want to reach out and help people who may feel like your brother. There’s no harm in that.”

“I just…I don’t want people to think that if I join to help out or work on the social media campaigns or whatever, that I didn’t want to help my brother. Because I did, and I still do. But he’s just…he’s been so awful to me and I just think it’s completely different.”

Cynthia frowns, but nods anyway. “You and Connor are not on the best of terms. It doesn’t mean you can’t be or won’t be, but that’s different,” She says, Zoe surprised that she’s not berating her for talking bad about her brother. “But I think if this is something you want to do and make a difference with, you shouldn’t let your relationship with your brother and people’s opinions of the two of you hold you back. It’s something to think about, baby,” She smiles, popping their dinner into the oven.

Cynthia leaves Zoe with a kiss on the side of her head, mumbling something about checking on Connor and making sure that he’s not in pain since he went upstairs to lay down. Zoe doesn’t say anything, but releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding when she’s left alone in the kitchen.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket, scrolling through her messages until she finds Alana’s name.

**Hey, sorry for being a little short with you earlier when you talked to me about the campaign you guys had thought of. It’s just a lot for me, you know? Just with everything about Connor right now, my mind is in a million places.**

**If you still want me to be a part of it, I’d love to :) If I can help Connor and other people at the same time, it’s a win for me. Let me know if you want to meet up and talk about things, maybe talk to the counselors at school about the best way to go about this. I’d like to keep Connor separate though, that’s the only thing.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a mostly zoe centric chapter, but an important one to set up the rest of the story :) connor will be back in full force next chapter, i can promise you that!
> 
> thank you for all the love, reads, kudos and everything else that you've given this story!
> 
> you can come talk to me on tumblr if you'd like! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> more on friday!


	12. twelve.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where larry doesn't know how to deal with connor, and zoe steps up for her brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of previous suicide attempts, brief description of previous suicide attempt

There’s a lot of feelings that Larry didn’t expect to have when it came to Connor.

He hates to even think it, and there’s no way that he’d admit it out loud, but he feels numb to this. This isn’t the first time Connor has tried to commit suicide, but it’s the first time he thinks Connor looks remorseful and wants to change.

He just isn’t sure he believes him.

Larry is far from the perfect parent. He’d be the first to admit it. To the naked eye, many would think that he favored Zoe over Connor.

Which wasn’t entirely untrue.

He and Connor had never really gotten along. As a little boy, Connor only ever wanted his mom. It was rare that days out with his dad were something that he wanted, and the one thing that had kept them together and bonded was little league, which Connor had begged to quit when he was 10.

Cynthia had let him, but not without a fight from Larry. He can remember the argument so vividly. The hushed whispers after they had put Connor and Zoe to bed that night. Larry was adamant about him staying in little league. It was the only sport he did, after all.

 

“I just don’t understand why you won’t let him quit, Larry,” Cynthia says, pacing the kitchen as she cleans a few things up. “It’s obvious he hates it, why should we make him do something he hates?”

“Because it’s the only thing he does!” Larry argues, biting back an apology when Cynthia tells him to keep his voice down. “He doesn’t do music like Zoe, he doesn’t play any other sports. We let him quit and he’s going to have nothing left.”

Cynthia sighs, her hands pressed against the counter as she stares out the window above the sink. “You really need to stop comparing Connor to Zoe. They’re two completely different people.”

Which, fair enough.

Larry knew he shouldn’t do that. Force of habit, he figures. They’re only a year apart, and at 10 and 9, they seem more like twins than they do siblings with a small age difference. He can’t help but compare them.

“Connor isn’t happy playing little league. He’s always been more than welcome to try music or other sports, but he’s never shown an interest. He likes art, maybe that’s something he’d like to do instead,” Cynthia offers, Larry rolling his eyes.

“Art isn’t sports.”

“Zoe does dance and music. You don’t get on her for quitting soccer when she tripped over the ball and the girls laughed at her. You didn’t bat an eye when she came home from softball crying and saying that she hated it, in fact you were the one who called and got our money back. Why do you only care about Connor quitting?”

Larry can’t answer, because he doesn’t know why he only cares about Connor quitting.

Cynthia doesn’t need him to say anything to know why.

“I’m not sending in the registration money. You’re not going to guilt him into joining. This is what he wants, and he deserves to be happy.”

Larry nods, turning and walking out of the kitchen towards his office.

He stares at Connor’s first little league picture in a frame on his desk, wondering if he’d ever find something he and Connor could both enjoy together.

 

He hadn’t, and now 7 years later he’s making his way home to see his family, his son recovering from his third suicide attempt.

He walks in the front door, not surprised to hear a mostly quiet house. It was entirely possible that Zoe was with Evan up until dinner, and Connor was probably in his room.

Which Larry hated, because to him that meant Connor was pushing away the help they were trying to give him. Isolating himself is definitely _not_ something Dr. James said to do, but he doesn’t think that’s an argument he’ll win.

Cynthia would tell him that Connor deserved some space and alone time after therapy, and although he disagreed, he was too tired to start an argument.

So he let Connor be in his room. Besides, anything Connor could use to harm himself as well as his door were taken away. So there was no chance of Larry walking in on what he had seen before the first time Connor tried to take his own life.

He shakes his had to rid himself of the memory of that. The panic in Cynthia’s voice as she called him for help, only to find angry red marks all over his son’s thighs when he arrives at his bedroom.

He walks into the kitchen, kissing his wife’s cheek as he grabs a beer from the fridge. He notices her frown, but she doesn’t protest.

He opens it anyway.

“Connor is in his room. Long session at therapy today, but Dr. James said he’s making slow progress,” Cynthia says, Larry humming some sort of response. Cynthia didn’t bother asking him to clarify what he had said.

“And Zoe?”

Cynthia’s face falls for a moment, sighing as she begins preparing the sides for dinner. “In her room. Working on homework, I think. She got home not long before you.”

Larry nods, sorting through the mail before moving onto his email. “I’m going to go change real quick,” He announces, to which Cynthia says something about checking in on both of their kids, let them know that dinner is ready and they can come down and wash up.

Larry climbs the stairs two at a time, his feet padding along the area rug on the hardwood floors. He stops outside of Zoe’s room, knocking twice. She appears a moment later, smiling up at him. “Dinner’s ready. Come down and wash up,” He says quietly, Zoe nodding as she walks back to her bed, shutting her laptop.

He walks a little further down the hall, stopping at Connor’s room. Connor’s laying on the bed, his nose buried in a book. Books had been the only thing Connor had remotely been interested in over the years.

Taking a deep breath, Larry knocks on the door frame. Connor peers over the top, the blank expression on his face turning more to worried.

Larry hates that his own kid probably hates him.

But he knows he deserves it.

“You okay?” He asks, Connor shrugging as he sets his book down on his chest.

“I guess.”

Larry nods, glancing around his son’s room. "Dinner is ready. Why don’t you get cleaned up and come down,” He says, Connor nodding as he bookmarks his place, sitting up.

Larry goes to walk down the hall, pulling himself back to stand in the doorway once more. “You know if you ever need to talk about things or if you’re not feeling okay you can talk to me, right?” He asks, which really should’ve been a question every child answers immediately.

But Connor doesn’t. Instead he gives his dad this stare that makes Larry briefly wonder if he has three heads.

“So you care now?” Connor asks after a moment, staring at Larry intently. “All the times I’ve asked for help, but this is the one you care about?”

Larry's silent for a moment. He really doesn’t want to fight with his son, but he also doesn’t want to be accused of something that isn’t true. “You really think that I never cared every time we’ve gone through this?” Larry asks, his voice low. “Why do you think I agreed to send you to rehab last summer, huh? Why do you think I’ve given in to your mother every time she wants to send you to a new therapist or try a new medication?”

“Because you’re embarrassed of having a fucked up son!” Connor yells, balling his hands into fists. “You didn’t willingly give into any of that! You told Mom for years I was doing it for attention! You fucking told her that I was fine, that all of this was just one big act! Why would this time be any different? Why would you ever change your ways now?” Connor takes a deep breath. “You’re only agreeing to intensive therapy and stronger meds this time because it makes me look more normal to all your little friends.”

“That’s so far from the truth, Connor. You know that.”

Connor doesn’t say anything. Instead he throws his bottle of water at the wall opposite him.

“Connor,” Larry says sharply, flinching when Connor throws his book next. “Connor Murphy, knock it off!”

“Fuck off, Dad! You don’t fucking care about me! I bet you wish that I was successful with it! That I had fucking killed myself this time.”

The room freezes. Connor’s sobs fill the air, but Larry can’t move.

His son thinks he wants him dead. How does a parent react to that?

“Connor, you and your sister are the best things that ever happened to me. If you ever fucking believe that I would want you dead, you’re wrong.”

“You have a shitty way of proving me wrong then,” Connor says quietly. “Because you’ve just called me attention seeking for the last few years of my life.”

Larry doesn’t think Connor would ever believe him.

He ends the conversation there, reminding Connor quietly that dinner is ready. “I expect to see you at the table. And clean this up before you come down.”

Connor chucks another water bottle at the wall. He pretends like he didn’t hear his dad slam something on his dresser.

—

Dinner goes as well as Connor thought it would, which is still better than expected when he was released from the hospital.

He even manages to say a few words, which makes Cynthia look like she’s going to cry. He cringes, but Zoe picks up the conversation and the scene is diverted.

He thinks a lot about his outburst with Larry. The two of them had avoided each other for the better part of four years, but now —after his third suicide attempt—he seems to be making an effort.

And Connor hates it. So he lashes out at him, calls him out for blaming him for everything over the last few years. Connor isn’t perfect, but he doesn’t forget the way his dad treated him when he needed him the most.

He hates that the outburst happened, but he mostly hates that he couldn’t control it. He’s positive Cynthia and Zoe heard it, but they don’t bring it up during dinner.

Connor figures they probably want to act like it didn’t exist.

He retreats upstairs after eating half of the food on his plate, clearing his things and putting them in the dishwasher. He swears he hears hushed whispers behind him as he climbs up the steps slowly, but in all honesty, he’s too tired to fight.

He’s too tired to do much of anything, lately, which he thinks is because of the medicine. Yeah, his suicidal tendencies and thoughts may be less frequent, but he also feels like most of his personality is gone too. Dr. James assures him it’ll return after some more adjusting, but it's really hard for Connor to be optimistic about that.

He’s basically already resigned to being a zombie for the rest of his life if he can’t be successful in killing himself.

He hears Zoe come up the steps not long after him, and for a moment he thinks about talking to her, asking her how school is going now that she’s been back for almost a week. Dr. James had talked a little about their relationship, going on a tangent about he and his sister, and how he had to patch things when he took a dark turn.

Connor zoned out halfway through the story. Sure, it was nice Dr. James was close with his sister now, but Connor just didn’t see that happening for him and Zoe. He hurt her too many times for her to ever want to forgive him.

And he can’t blame her.

He pulls his art book from the bin underneath his bed, noticing the stash of weed is gone. All he had wanted was a smoke, but with everything taken away, he had resigned to the fact that that wasn’t something that was going to happen.

He flips open to a blank page, beginning to doodle anything and everything. It was a good tension release for him, and all he can think about is how he wishes he could go sit on top of the hill near the playground he and Zoe used to go to, drawing the people walking by and the landscapes.

He doesn’t think his parents will let him out alone.

He can’t blame them.

The fighting between his parents happens not long after, and at this point Connor would normally open his door to slam it again. They were always fighting, most of the time about him. His mom had been doing her best, really, and Connor wants to thank her for it, even though he doesn’t feel like they’re there yet.

But there’s no door to slam now, and so he holes himself up in the corner of the room, trying to focus on whatever it is he was attempting to draw on the paper in his art book.

“It’s like he's not even trying, Cynthia!” Larry says, his glass slamming against the granite. “He spent over a week in the hospital and has now been doing therapy three times a week and it doesn't seem like he's any different! He barely talks to us, and holes himself in his room whenever possible.

Cynthia lets a plate fall back into the sink, taking a deep breath as she looks to her husband. “You don’t get to be the one who says he isn’t trying, Larry,” She begins, and the words surprise Connor. “The first two times he attempted you distanced yourself from him. You didn’t see the progress he made before it slipped away.”

“I’m sure you'll tell me this time is different. That he’s putting more effort in this time.”

“He is!” She yells, Connor wincing at the harshness in her voice. There’s a pause before she speaks again. “He is trying, Larry. This is more effort than I’ve seen from him since he started changing. Dr. James says he’s engaged in the therapy as much as he thought he would be, he’s taking his meds without a fight, and he’s not isolating himself. He’s 17, he deserves to be allowed to have alone time.”

“All he ever wants is alone time,” Larry mutters. Connor can feel the anger rising in his bones, and he doesn’t think any coping technique is going to stop it. “I’m fucking sick of spending all this money just for him to be the same Connor. Maybe he’s too far gone, Cynthia. Have you ever thought that?”

Zoe hears the crash from her room, and without hesitation she’s running towards Connor’s room. She’s fully expecting to open her door and be met with her parents running up as well, but instead she’s met with the full blown argument they’re having downstairs.

“How dare you say that our son is too far gone. How dare you ever think that he can’t get better. He _needs_ us, Larry! Whether you’re ready to accept it or not, he needs us. And I’m not leaving my baby to fight these demons alone.”

Zoe shudders, taking a deep breath as she creeps across the hall, staring into Connor’s room.

It’s a sight she’s used to seeing, honestly. He had thrown his pencil holder, the pens and pencils lay discarded on the ground, the holder clearly thrown against his dresser, somehow not broken as it lays on the hardwood floor. Connor’s breathing is heavy, and he’s tossing throw pillows at the window seat, as if that's going to make him feel any better. She’s waiting for him to start attacking the bookshelves.

She thinks about sneaking away, too worried that he’s going to lash out at her or threaten her if she says anything. But then he turns around, and they meet eyes for the first time.

Zoe’s surprised to see his anger soften, his grip on the picture frame he had grabbed in a rage loosening.

“Hey,” She says quietly, and for a moment, Zoe braces herself to dodge an incoming frame at her head.

“Fuck off, Zoe.”

“Do you want to go get ice cream?”

Connor's shocked by the question, and ends up dropping a different frame on his foot. Zoe thinks she would’ve laughed if it was anyone else but her brother, but in that moment it didn’t seem appropriate.

He doesn’t answer after a moment, and Zoe crosses her arms over her chest, shrugging. “I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to,” She says, watching her brother move to sit on his bed. “I just…they’re fighting? And you can probably hear them? And rather than having them make you anxious or angry or whatever we could just get out of the house. It’s probably weird though, right?”

“I’m already angry,” Connor reminds her, weakly throwing a book against his bed.

It doesn’t make him feel any better.

He shrugs, staring at his hands. He picks at a hangnail until his finger bleeds, a shaky breath escaping his lips as he tries to hide the anxiety and anger away from his sister. He had told Dr. James he’d work on mending their relationship, and maybe this is the perfect place to start.

If he can’t be better for anyone else, he can certainly try for her.

“We can go get ice cream,” He concedes, lifting his head to look at her.

He pretends like he didn’t see her whole mood lift when he agrees.

She pretends like she didn’t see him smile.

Zoe runs back to her room to grab her phone and wallet, Connor slips on his boots and steps over the mess he had made in a rage. He’ll clean it up later.

He trails behind Zoe down the steps, trying to do anything to block out the argument they’re about to run into. Zoe turns back and tells him to wait quietly, and for the first time in years, he listens.

“Connor and I are going to get ice cream,” She says, the fighting stopping abruptly. Connor figures they’re both looking at her.

“Honey, I’m not sure now is a good time. Your brother hasn’t had a great day and it’s getting late,” Cynthia says, Connor sinking to sit down as he rolls his eyes.

His mom may be on his side, but he may suffocate from all the hovering she’s doing.

“He needs to get out of the house. He wants to go, I asked him. Besides, you two fighting is fucking annoying, and he can hear everything. Maybe wait until we’re in bed.”

“Language,” Larry warns, but doesn’t argue about what she said.

There's a sigh and footsteps along the hardwood before Cynthia speaks again. “Be home in an hour or less. Call us if you need anything.”

Connor isn’t dumb. He knows his mom means for Zoe to call if he freaks out.

Which he won’t. It’s just ice cream.

He doesn’t bother to look at them on his way by, but he swears he sees his mom smile out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t want to see her sympathetic smile in that moment, not after all the fighting he had just heard about him.

So instead he focuses on his sister, following her black Converse out the front door in the direction of the car, savoring the fresh air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise you will get to see them get ice cream, but this chapter was so long and i didn't want to make it like...extremely long with the whole ice cream part, so it's right at the beginning of next chapter!
> 
> thank you for all the love, as always :)
> 
> you can find me on tumblr! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :) i've been thinking about writing little drabbles of any character or things on there, so if you want to send some feel free :)
> 
> i also posted this yesterday if you'd like to read it! just an unusual Murphy family Christmas one-shot that definitely never meant to end up that long haha http://archiveofourown.org/works/12942771
> 
> okay this end not is obnoxiously long i'm sorry, see you tuesday! :) <3


	13. thirteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where zoe and connor talk, and zoe warms up to the organization.

Zoe’s car is unnaturally neat, and the polar opposite of Connor’s. He’s always felt out of place when she drives him, but especially now. He’s barely showered since he’s been home, he knows his hair is a mess and he’s wearing sweatpants that his mom bought him years ago that now have tattered edges around the cuffs.

Zoe’s always been a neat person. She likes things in their place, she always makes sure she looks well kept, and Connor imagines she’s embarrassed by him.

“You up for a little drive?” Zoe asks, turning the car on and throwing it in reverse. She glances at Connor, who only shrugs. Sighing, she looks back before beginning down their road. “I was thinking maybe we could go to A-la Mode? That place near the orchard where Mom and Dad used to take us when we were little?”

Connor tenses.

Zoe stops at the stop sign, squeezing her eyes shut. She’s waiting for him to freak out.

“Okay, maybe not. We can just go somewhere else. Sorry, I um, I forgot,” She says when Connor doesn’t say anything, and for once Connor believes her.

He just nods, and eventually Zoe starts driving again. Silence fills the car once more, and Zoe turns on the radio in an attempt to cut the tension.

“We can go to A-la Mode,” Connor says quietly when Zoe comes to a stoplight, and he feels her eyes on him as he stares straight ahead.

The lights blur as he tries to focus, but he can’t look at his sister. Not right now.

“Are you sure?” Zoe asks, but Connor only nods. “I’ll go the long way.”

Zoe thinks she hears a thank you from Connor, but she doesn’t ask him to speak up. Instead she just turns up the music, humming along while Connor leans against the window.

There’s only a few cars in the parking lot when she pulls in, parking on the end. She shuts off the car, turning back to her brother. “Did you want to come in, or do you want me to just get you some and bring it back to the car?”

She wouldn’t blame Connor if he didn’t want to go in. There’s a chance kids from school work there.

He’s silent for a moment, squinting his eyes to look in the shop. His hand reaches up to run through his hair, and his bandage peeks out from underneath his hoodie. It’s a strong reminder of how big this was for him.

She almost lost him.

“I’ll come in with you,” He finally says, reaching down to unbuckle his seatbelt.

Zoe nods, following his suit as they both step out of the car and walk inside.

There’s an older couple at a table in the back corner, and Zoe feels Connor stiffen beside her. She notices him toy with the sleeve of his hoodie, bringing it down below his bandage.

She just smiles at him, walking towards the counter. “Do you know what kind you want?” She asks when he stands beside her, looking through the glass at the different flavors. He shrugs, deciding on vanilla.

Zoe thinks about telling him that’s boring, but she can tell he’s anxious and they’re not quite there in their relationship yet. So she bites her tongue, ordering for the two of them and paying with her own money.

“I could’ve paid,” Connor mumbles, and Zoe almost asks where he got money from.

He wasn't buying drugs anymore. He had the money to spend.

She shrugs, handing him his ice cream with a smile. “It’s my treat. Sit in here or in the car?”

Connor thinks about it. He’s really trying to listen to what Dr. James says. The place is empty except for the older couple, and so he figures they can take a chance. “In here.”

Zoe nods, leading them to the table by the door. Connor sits with his back to it, shoulders hunched over the table as he stares at his ice cream.

“I’m glad you agreed to come,” Zoe says, breaking the silence between them.

Connor looks up, nodding slowly. “Same.”

“Are you okay?” Zoe blurts out, stirring her spoon around her ice cream. “Like, I know you heard Mom and Dad fighting.”

“Can we not talk about this here?”

Zoe’s face flushes red, and she nods quickly.

Connor feels bad that he’s hurt her, but he can’t do this. Not right now, not in public like this.

There’s an awkward silence between the two of them, one that Zoe wants to fill but knows she shouldn’t. She’s surprised when Connor cuts it.

“Heard you talking to Mom about Colin Harris after school on your first day back.”

Zoe sucks in a deep breath. Out of all the things she didn’t want him to hear, that was probably it.

“He’s a dick,” Zoe says in reply, looking up at her brother. “Like an honest to god dick. It took everything in me to not punch him in the face my first day back.” She thought Connor would laugh at that, and is slightly let down when he has no reaction at all.

“You can agree with him if you want. I’m sure you probably do think I hate you and that I should’ve just died.”

Zoe wants to cut him off, tell him that they’ll talk about it later, but she can’t. She needs him to know how she feels now.

“That’s literally the furthest thing from the truth,” She says sharply, twirling her spoon around in her hand. “I don’t think you hate me, and don’t ever think for a fucking second that I wish you died. I will _never_ think that. Never.”

Connor nods, but Zoe can tell he doesn’t believe her. She doesn’t know what else to say, so defeatedly she falls back against the back of her chair, finishing the rest of her ice cream.

They’re quiet for the rest of the time, and Connor eats half of his ice cream before he stands up and throws it out. Zoe finishes quickly, following him out the door and back to the car.

He turns on her music this time as she pulls out, taking the long way home. She can’t think of anything to say, not wanting him to yell at her.

Her fingers ache from how hard she’s gripping the steering wheel, her mind racing with thoughts about how she upset Connor, how she’s already breaking this healing that had barely started.

“I just want Dad to have faith in me,” Connor says quietly, Zoe jumping at his voice. It sounds distant, which really just scares her more. She loosens her grip on the steering wheel, nodding.

“I know I don’t deserve for any of you to believe me when I say I'm going to get better, but I’m trying, Zoe,” Connor says quietly, Zoe nodding again. She slows down her driving, stopping at a light she definitely could’ve made it through.

“I know,” Zoe says, glancing at Connor before she begins driving again. “Look, I know we have the worst sibling relationship out there,” She laughs, biting her lip until the tears stop blurring her eyes. “And I know I haven’t been great since you got home from the hospital. But I do believe in you, Connor. I do think you’re trying. You’ve barely lashed out since you’ve been home.”

Connor nods, sniffling.

Zoe pretends she doesn’t see him wipe at his eyes.

“I’m um…I’m sorry? For being an asshole for the last few years,” He says, hitting his head against the headrest. “For telling you that I want to kill you. For yelling at you and terrorizing you and everything else that I did to you over the last few years. I should’ve treated you better.”

Zoe’s breath is caught in her throat, pulling into their driveway and shutting the car off.

She hadn’t expected an apology, and now she didn’t know how to answer.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” She breathes, watching Connor’s fist ball up. “At least not right now. You hurt me a lot, Connor.”

“I know,” He whispers. His hand relaxes, resting against the door.

“But I think this is a good start. I want to help you, but you’re going to have to work with me. I think we can get better, we can be the siblings we used to be. Can you let me help you?” She asks, shifting to look at Connor.

She sees the tears running down his cheek. She goes to wipe it away, but stops herself before he notices.

“Yeah,” He nods, looking over at her. "Just maybe don’t suffocate me into talking about things if I’m having a bad day? And give me some space?”

Zoe laughs, nodding. “I’ll leave the suffocating and hovering to Mom.”

Connor manages to laugh at that as he nods.

It’s been over an hour, and Zoe knows they should probably go inside. But neither of them look like they want to move. Zoe pulls the key out of the ignition, but leaves it resting on her lap.

“Do you think Dad will ever believe that I want to get better?” Connor asks, looking over at his sister. “Like, he doesn’t believe me now, which is fair, but do you think he’ll ever change his mind?”

Zoe exhales, contemplating what she should say to her brother. Larry was a lot of things, but Zoe never saw him as a monster.

She guesses Connor has different opinions.

“I’m not sure,” She finally says, which makes Connor feels like someone is twisting a knife in his heart. “I can tell this time is different, and Mom can too. I mean, you’re not fighting your meds. It kind of makes me wonder if you’re even Connor.”

Connor rolls his eyes, but a smile creeps up on his face. “They seem to work?”

Zoe nods, fumbling with her keychain in her hands. “I just think that if you keep taking your meds and work on the things from therapy, maybe he’ll see that you’re serious this time.”

Connor nods, whispering some sort of thank you. It’s progress.

“You’re allowed to have bad days, Connor. You’re allowed to be mad for no reason, to have your depression suffocate you again to the point where you feel like you did before. No one is expecting this medicine to just take the suicidal thoughts away. But when you feel like that, you need to let us in. You can’t just wallow in your sadness and think about how you wish you had something you could use to hurt yourself or trying to find something that would work. You need to talk to someone, anyone about how you’re feeling. Let us help you.”

Connor’s silent for a moment, but he reaches over and rests his hand on Zoe’s. She takes it and squeezes it.

“Okay,” He whispers, Zoe smiling. “Okay, I’ll…I’ll try to let you guys in.”

Zoe nods, running her thumb against his soft skin. It’s the closest she’s felt to him in years.

“We’ve been out so much longer than an hour,” Connor laughs, his voice shaking with tears.

Zoe laughs along with him, leaning her head back against the headrest. “I think Mom will understand.”

“Dad won’t.”

“Fuck him.”

Connor laughs at that, shaking his head. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“I do when he talks about you like he did earlier.” There’s a pause between the two of them.

Connor knows what’s coming.

“I um, I heard you guys fighting earlier.” She’s not surprised when Connor doesn’t say anything. “You were right, you know. Everything you said to him.”

“Zoe,” Connor warns, pausing to take a deep breath. He can’t freak out on her. He can’t scare her like he has for so long.

“I know, I know,” Zoe says, but Connor can't help but feel like she doesn’t know. That she doesn’t get it. “I just…he said some super shitty things. And he hasn’t showed that he cares like, at all. And his fight with Mom is only making this worse. But I’m on your side at least, Connor. I care, and I want to try to fix us, and help fix you.” She’s rambling, but Connor’s hand is no longer in a fist and his breathing is more even, which she takes as a success.

Connor nods, looking over at her. “Thank you. For giving me a chance. For not giving up on me.”

Zoe smiles in return, nodding.

They get out of the car, walking up to the front door and toeing off their shoes. Cynthia peers into the entryway, her face softening. Zoe knows she can tell they’ve been crying.

“We’re okay,” Connor says quietly, and Zoe looks up to see that he’s looking at their mom. “Sorry um, sorry we were out longer than an hour.”

Cynthia shakes her head, smiling. “It’s okay,” She promises. Zoe doesn’t think she’s totally okay with it. “You two are sure you’re okay?” She asks again, Connor glancing back at his sister.

“We’re okay,” Zoe nods, and for a moment she really believes that.

—

Alana offers her house after school to start brainstorming ideas for their new organization. Zoe’s exhausted, but her conversation with Connor has been on a replay in her mind, and so she forces herself to go.

Alana’s house is nice, Zoe finds. She’s an only child, and there’s photos of her everywhere Zoe looks. Which is nice, but a little odd at the same time.

“If any of you want anything, just let me know. We have drinks and snacks and things, or we could order something!” Alana says, setting her bag down at the base of the chair she planned to sit on.

Zoe gauges the boys reactions, shifting her attention back to Alana. “I think we’re okay, Alana. Thanks,” She smiles, Alana smiling in return as she sinks down into her seat.

“So, I was thinking of starting a blog maybe? Where people can submit how they’re feeling. Maybe almost like a message board?” Alana begins, pulling her laptop from her bag. Zoe nods, tucking her feet underneath her. She can see Evan out of the corner of her eye, looking uneasy.

“If we want to involve the school, maybe we should talk to the counselor, see how to go about it? Like we could start an after school club where people can feel safe to come talk about how they’re feeling,” Jared adds on.

Zoe didn't think he could be that compassionate.

“We’re um, we’re not counselors, though,” Evan interjects, looking between the three of them. He fiddles with his fingers. “So I’m not sure the people would really listen to what we have to say?”

Alana looks deflated, Zoe thinks, but she nods anyway. Things feel awkward, and Zoe feels like she needs to say something.

“Maybe if we just had support groups then? I um, I’m not really sure what would help people in this situation, but maybe if people had a place where they could get advice on how people who are suffering from similar things cope it may help?” She offers, Evan nodding quickly.

“That um, that would be better. And like, online too? We could write advice columns if you want, see if we can stress that no one is alone and there’s always people trying to figure this out too.”

“I like that!” Alana smiles, typing furiously on her laptop. Zoe bites back a smile at the thought of her taking notes about this. “Do we have a name for this project or should we keep it unnamed?”

Zoe doesn’t know why everyone’s eyes fall on her, but it makes her uncomfortable. She’s silent for a moment, staring at her phone and wishing a text asking her to come home to light up her screen.

It never does.

“Maybe something like ‘You Will Be Found’? I’m not sure, it’s pretty lame, but it’s the first thing that came to mind,” Zoe shrugs, forcing herself to look up at them.

“I like that!” Alana smiles, scribbling it down on her paper before looking towards the boys. Both of them nod, and Evan gives Zoe a smile of encouragement.

It helps more than she thought it would.

They brainstorm for a little while longer, and while Zoe feels wildly out of place talking about this, she just tries to think of what Connor would want.

In reality, he wouldn’t want any of this. She doesn’t think he’d like strangers talking about problems and him getting advice from them. But maybe one day he would, and she dreams of that.

They brainstorm more ideas for a while longer, eventually transitioning to homework. Alana works on her English worksheet, moving to sit by Zoe so they could compare answers.

“I should probably get home,” Zoe says after checking her phone. It’s getting late, and she promised her mom she would be home earlier than she has been the last few weeks. Her mom seem relieved at that. “Evan, did you need a ride?”

Evan nods quickly, shoving his things clumsily in his backpack while Zoe finishes packing up as well.

“We can make an appointment with the counselors tomorrow about getting this going. I think we made a lot of progress today,” She smiles, everyone nodding in agreement.

Zoe’s still weary about it all, but this made her feel more confident.

Evan slides into the passenger seat like he always does, Zoe smiling as she turns on the car and starts towards his house. She looks forward to her rides with Evan, mostly because it’s the only person she hasn’t felt awkward around lately.

“I talked to Connor yesterday,” She says, breaking the silence. “We um, we went for ice cream.”

“Oh?” Evan asks, looking back at her. “That’s good, right?”

Zoe can’t help but laugh, nodding. “It’s really good.”

“I think we’re going to be okay, somehow. Like, he got mad at me for a little, but we made up for it in the car. I can tell he’s trying, that he wants to get better and try to work on things between us.”

Evan nods, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I’m glad you um, you talked to him.”

“Thank you for giving me the confidence,” Zoe says quickly, Evan smiling. “I’m serious. If you hadn’t told me to just give him a chance and make the first move, I’d probably still be walking on eggshells around him.”

Evan nods, unsure of what to say.

That alone says more than enough. Zoe knows she has Evan to fall back on, her relationship with Connor is slowly on the mend, and for the first time in years, she feels like things are going to be okay.

She’s not naive enough to be optimistic that it’s always going to be like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's going to be a ton of murphy sibling healing content in this, you've been warned! but obviously bumps will happen along the way :)
> 
> thank you for all of the love/reads/kudos you guys leave! i know i say that every time but i mean it omg like just knowing you guys like this story is so nice for me???
> 
> you can find me on tumblr if you’d like! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> Happy Hanukkah to those who celebrate! 
> 
> more on friday!


	14. fourteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Connor has his stitches out, Larry struggles to understand what to do, and Zoe is worried.

Being back in the hospital spikes Connor’s anxiety. He can feel his palms sweating, his breathing erratic. He trails behind his mother slightly as they walk through and upstairs to the non-emergency floor, Cynthia quietly telling him to sit down while she checks them in.

Zoe had offered to come with them, but Connor didn’t say whether he wanted that either way. She tags along, sinking into the chair next to her brother as he fidgets with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“You okay?” She asks, Connor’s head snapping towards her. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

Zoe gives him a soft smile, reaching over to pat his leg. Even she knows it was a lame attempt at being comforting. “I mean, you’ve had stitches out before, it shouldn’t be any worse than any of the other times.”

Connor just nods. It’s still an awkward thing to talk about.

Cynthia takes to filling out some forms, and Connor has never been so thankful that he’s a minor than in that moment. He stares straight ahead at an older woman sitting across from them. She gives him a small smile, and Connor tries to smile back.

He doesn’t think it works.

He doesn’t hear his name being called, but his mother’s hand is on his shoulder and Zoe is looking back at him and so he forces himself to stand up.

“Connor, honey, take a deep breath,” Cynthia says softly when the exam room door closes and Connor sits himself on the table.

Connor doesn’t think he can take in anymore air than he is, but he tries. He can feel her standing in front of him, but she doesn’t touch him.

He’s never been more grateful.

“Do you know why you’re feeling anxious, sweetheart?” She asks. All she wants is to run her hands through his hair, but she stops herself with everything she has. Connor doesn’t like being touched when he’s anxious, she knows that.

Connor’s head falls back against the wall, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath. “Just being back here I guess,” He shrugs, which doesn’t feel like the answer that his mom is looking for, or even the right one.

He just can’t come up with a better one.

Cynthia doesn’t press any further, but nods and whispers some sort of affirmation that Connor really thinks would help anyone who’s not him. He doesn’t say anything, but just nods and fiddles with the ring on his finger.

There's two knocks on the door before it opens, and Zoe doesn’t think she’s ever been relieved to see Ms. Hansen than she is in that moment.

“I knew the name sounded familiar,” She smiles, hugging Cynthia and Zoe before setting Connor’s chart on the bed beside him. “I’m Heidi, Evan Hansen’s mom. I was a nurse when you were admitted, but I was never assigned to you,” She smiles at him, sticking her hand out for Connor to shake.

He does slowly, his eyes staying fixed on his lap. Heidi doesn’t seem offended.

“I’m just going to take some vitals real quick, Dr. Nichols will be in to look at your wounds and make sure everything healed nicely, and then I’ll be back to take the stitches out,” She explains, which really is more helpful to Cynthia and Zoe than it is to Connor.

Zoe doesn’t think Connor is listening.

He doesn’t protest as Heidi takes his vitals, watching her write a few things down. She smiles, and Connor can see why Zoe had spent so much time at their house. It’s not a sympathetic smile like they usually get from Cynthia.

It’s a warm one, like maybe she actually does care.

“Do you have any questions, Connor?” Heidi asks, looking up from Connor’s chart.

Connor just shakes his head.

The room is silent when Heidi leaves, and Zoe thinks about saying something. She doesn’t know what to say though, at least not anything that she doesn’t think will set Connor off.

She doesn’t think they need that kind of commotion today.

Dr. Nichols comes in, smiling at the three of them as he takes a seat in the chair. “It’s nice to see you looking a little better, Connor. Has it been nice being home?” He asks, pulling on some exam gloves.

On any other day, Connor probably wouldn’t have minded the small talk. Today he thinks it might make him lash out.

He manages to shrug, forcing himself to look up at the doctor. “Yeah, it’s been nice,” He finally says, his voice low.

Zoe can’t tell if he’s lying.

Connor pulls his sleeve up and lets Dr. Nichols begin unwrapping the bandages, revealing three angry purple scars, at least ten stitches lining each of them.

Connor and Zoe both have to look away to stop themselves from being sick.

“I know it’s not the nicest looking thing, but these are actually healing beautifully, Connor,” Dr. Nichols says, his fingers running across the three scars. The motion makes Connor’s blood run cold. “I’m going to send Heidi in to remove these stitches and get you cleaned up, and then I’ll be back in to make sure they’re healing well underneath the stitches.”

He answers a few questions and shakes Connor’s hand again before leaving the room, Connor leaving his stitches exposed as he stares at them. Cynthia frowns as she watches her son, the sight making her slightly sick to her stomach as well.

“Connor, you’re getting paler. Don’t look at it if it’s going to make you sick,” Cynthia says quietly, but there’s no malice in her voice.

“I…I did that to myself,” He whispers, his voice shaking and tears blurring his eyes. He looks up at Cynthia and Zoe, and Zoe finds herself standing up to step in front of him. “I…”

Zoe reaches out and takes his hand, squeezing it. “We know,” She whispers. Connor takes a deep breath, but doesn’t move to push the tears off of his face.

Zoe keeps holding his hand.

This isn’t the first time Connor has harmed himself. Zoe remembers the nights where she was younger and she’d find Connor sitting in the bathroom, Cynthia bandaging his arms. She remembers the days where Connor would mark up his thighs, angry tears running down his face when he realizes Zoe had been watching. She remembers trips to the emergency room with Connor a few times, stitches being needed to close his skin back up after cutting too deep. This isn’t new, she knows.

This had just been the worst case.

“Connor, look at me,” Zoe says quietly. Cynthia thinks about stepping in, but wants to see how this plays out.

Connor forces his eyes away from his arm, making eye contact with his sister.

“Those…those don’t define you,” She says quietly, turning his hand so that the scars are no longer visible. “You are not defined by the scars that you gave yourself at all over the last few years, but especially these ones. You’re more than that. This is a huge step in getting better, but you can’t let this be the thing you hang onto.”

Connor nods, and before he can say anything, Heidi is walking back in with a tray of supplies.

She can tell she’s walked into a moment, pausing in the doorway. “If you guys need a minute I can come back.”

Connor shakes his head quickly, dropping Zoe’s hand and rubbing at his eyes. “No, it’s okay,” He says.

It’s the least convincing he’s sounded all day.

Zoe waits a moment until she’s somewhat convinced that he’s okay before she steps back, sinking into the chair she had been in. Cynthia hovers by the side of the bed, but largely tries to stay out of Heidi’s way. Which is a lot easier said than done for her, Zoe thinks.

“Okay, you’ll probably feel me pulling the stitches out, but it shouldn’t hurt. Tell me if it does, though,” Heidi says, disinfecting Connor’s arm. He just nods.

Connor looks away when she begins working on the stitches, balling his hand into a fist when it hurts him. “Try to keep this hand relaxed, Connor. Are you okay, or do you want a break?”

“I’m okay,” He says quietly, Heidi nodding as she continues working.

When she pulls back Connor is left with three angry purple scars, slightly raised and bleeding. She wipes some antiseptic over them, smiling. “They’ll probably be pretty purple and swollen for a few days, but that should start to go down. Make sure you’re keeping them clean so they don’t get infected,” She says, offering him bandaids. Zoe isn’t surprised when he declines, and promptly pulls his jacket right back over the scars after Dr. Nichols gives them the okay to leave.

The walk out to the car is silent, and Zoe slips into the back seat behind Connor. Cynthia turns on music which Connor promptly turns down, his head falling back against the headrest.

“So, that was Evan’s mom?” He asks after they’d been driving for a little while.

Zoe’s caught off guard, but nods quickly. “Yeah, it was. I thought you’ve met her?”

Connor shrugs. Zoe realizes he was probably getting high in his room anytime she came over.

“She was nice.”

“She was,” Cynthia smiles, looking over at Connor when she stops at a red light. “She’s a good nurse.”

Connor nods, biting his lip as silence falls over them once more.

“Maybe I could meet Evan one time? Like for real?” Connor asks, quickly shaking his head. “I mean, you probably wouldn’t want that, right? You probably wouldn’t want your boyfriend meeting your fucked up brother.”

“Connor,” Cynthia steps in, Zoe taking a deep breath.

“I do want you to meet him, Connor. If you want to and you feel ready to,” Zoe interjects, surprised when Connor looks back at her. “I want you to properly get to know him, because I think you guys are a lot similar than you think or maybe even want to admit. But I don’t want you to do this because you feel like you have to, or because you think his mom was nice to you.”

The car falls silent, and Zoe knows it’s her fault.

She and Cynthia don’t chase after Connor when he storms up to his room when they’re home.

—

Dinner is a mess that night, not that Zoe is surprised.

Connor refuses to come down for dinner, which may be the least surprising part of it all. Larry marches upstairs to yell at him, which earns a fight between Larry and Cynthia, Cynthia pleading to just leave Connor be, that he’ll eat when he’s ready to.

It leaves the dinner table silent. Zoe think that may be better.

“We can’t keep coddling him,” Larry says under his breath, looking up at his wife. “We can’t keep giving in to what he wants just because we’re afraid of him lashing out. That’s…that’s not what Dr. James said to do.”

Cynthia sighs, letting her fork drop to he plate. “Larry, today is not a good day for him. He hasn’t gotten what he wants since he’s been home from the hospital, but he needs this today.”

Zoe’s bracing herself for a full-blown fight.

“He needs to learn that he needs to eat with us, and he needs to start working on being with us. He’s never going to get any better if he keeps isolating himself. This isn’t why we’ve spent thousands of dollars on him. Nothing’s worked before, and if you keep letting him do what he wants, this won’t work either.”

Cynthia slams her wine glass down on the table a little too hard. “He’s trying, Larry. We’ve failed him! We’ve failed him every other time that we’ve gone through this, and I’m not letting him fail now!”

“Good, then you force him down here! Make him man up through the bad days and spend time with us. It’s the only thing that’s going to help!”

“It’s not the only thing that’s going to help,” Zoe says, her eyes icy as she glares at Larry. “Maybe if you would just fucking take some initiative and realize what’s going on, you’d realize that him spending time with us even when he doesn’t think he can isn’t going to help him. Also, he can definitely hear you.”

She braces herself for Larry to yell at her, but no words come out in her direction. Instead Larry takes a deep breath, staring at his plate. “How can you not see that he’s barely putting in the effort? This is like a step higher than anything he’s done before. He’s not fighting the therapy, so what? It doesn’t mean that this is any different than any other time.”

“Mom?” Cynthia’s head snaps to the doorway of the kitchen when she hears her name being called.

Zoe’s shoulders fall.

Larry just twirls his wine glass in his hand.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“My stomach hurts,” Connor says quietly, and in an instant Cynthia is up and walking to her son, feeling his forehead.

“Just go back up to bed, I’ll be up in a minute with some medicine.”

Zoe tries to give Connor a smile when he looks at her, but he only bites his lip and turns back, his footsteps trailing up the steps.

Cynthia gets up without saying a word, disappearing upstairs after she grabbed the medicine.

Zoe takes it upon herself to do the dishes. Larry mutters something about going out to the garage, but Zoe doesn’t listen.

She doesn’t really care.

—

“Is Connor okay?”

Cynthia walks into the living room almost an hour later, looking as exhausted as Zoe knows she probably feels. Larry hasn’t come back inside, but Cynthia doesn’t ask so Zoe doesn’t say.

“He’s fine, sweetheart,” She says, which ends up relaxing Zoe in places she didn’t even know she was tense in. “He doesn’t have a fever. I think it’s just a stomachache from anxiety and a bad day. He’s asleep now.”

Zoe nods, letting the movie fill the silence of the room. There’s so many things she wants to say, but folding the blanket between her fingers feels like the best option.

“When Connor and I went out for ice cream the other night he told me that he doesn’t think Dad will ever believe that he wants to get better. He’s worried that we can’t tell that he’s trying this time.”

Cynthia starts crying, and Zoe can’t really say she’s surprised. “Oh god.”

“I know,” Zoe nods, forcing herself to sit up. She reaches over, taking Cynthia’s hand. “I told him that you and I believe him, and we can see it. But he’s just so worried that we’re not going to believe him eventually and we’re going to give up on him.”

Silence fills between the two of them, and Zoe can hear her mom sniffling. “Mom, he apologized to me. For threatening to kill me, for being a bad brother over the last few years. He’s _never_ said any apology to me for any of that after any of his other attempts or rehab stints or retreats. This is so different, and I just wish Dad could see it.”

Cynthia nods, squeezing her daughter’s hand. “Whether or not your father ever decides to wake up and see that Connor is progressing, I’ll never know. But I do know that you and I need to be there for him through all the good days and bad days, and encourage him to keep making progress. If Dad sees that Connor is trying, maybe it’ll change his mind.”

Zoe nods, her head falling against Cynthia’s shoulder.

Cynthia holds Zoe’s hand through the rest of the movie Zoe had put on, and Zoe doesn’t try to pull away.

She’s smart enough to realize that Cynthia needs her now, especially with Connor having a bad day.

Zoe just hopes that they somehow turn a corner in all of this, bringing them brighter and happier days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will say that Larry isn't always going to be this awful character who doesn't understand his son and doesn't want to try to do anything his wife thinks is right. because i do think he cared more than he ever let on, he just had issues showing it or knowing what to do. when i go back to proofread these chapters i realize how i painted larry early on, but it's vital for future chapters!
> 
> as always thank you for reading! i love reading through the comments and seeing kudos :)
> 
> you can follow me/talk to me on tumblr if you'd like :) for-f0rever.tumblr.com 
> 
> more on tuesday! 
> 
> and happy hanukkah for those who are celebrating :)


	15. fifteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Connor finally opens up, Zoe starts working on the organization and Heidi and Evan have a conversation.
> 
> TW: talk about suicide, descriptions of suicide attempts

Dr. James’ office is beginning to feel a lot like a second home to Connor. He’s memorized the writing on the three diplomas displayed on the wall, the scroll font blurring his eyes each time he would stare too long.

Therapy is helping, he thinks, which is really a step in the right direction Connor hadn’t had before. He would’ve given up with most therapists by now, and definitely had before in the past, but Dr. James seems different. It’s almost like he understands Connor, which Connor denies for most of the first few weeks before finally just accepting it.

Maybe there are people in the world who understand how he feels. Maybe he really isn’t alone like he had always thought.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Connor, today isn’t going to be an easy day,” Dr. James says evenly, sinking into the chair across from Connor. Connor can feel his anxiety rise, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he folds his hands between his legs.

He just nods, but he’s not really ready for this. Not in the slightest.

“We can stop whenever you have to, but it’s important that we get this out in the air, that we talk about your past and we’re honest with it so we can continue moving forward.”

Connor nods again, sucking in another deep breath.

“When you had your psych evaluation with me when you were in the hospital, you had mentioned previous suicide attempts,” He begins. Connor stiffens. “How many attempts have you had, Connor?”

Connor’s eyes dart to the door. At this point he’s praying for his mother to run in and say there’s some sort of family emergency. He’s hoping that she’ll scoop him up and take him home, and somehow she’ll magically fix him without the need to talk about his past and every way he’s failed.

He knows it’s not going to happen.

“Three,” Connor says quietly, his voice cracking. “This was my third attempt.”

He wants to throw something at Dr. James when he nods. He can’t take the little anecdotes.

“Let’s go back to the first one. Can you tell me about it? Everything you remember. Take your time.”

Connor squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t _want_ to think about this. He doesn’t want to talk about how screwed up he is and how he can’t even manage to kill himself right not once, but three times. He just wants Dr. James to keep giving him medication that doesn’t make him feel like a zombie, he wants him to teach him how to repair the relationships he’s broken. He doesn’t want to talk about his past.

“I was 14,” He finally says after an internal battle of forcing himself to not walk out. It ends up being harder than he thought it would be. “I um, I took a razor blade from my sister’s razor in the bathroom and brought it back to my room.” A shaky breath leaves his lips. He can feel the tears welling behind his eyes. “I cut my thighs multiple times. I um, I knew there was a major artery to hit, so I tried that. I didn’t really know where it was, though. So I never hit it.”

“Did you need medical intervention?” Dr. James asks, not looking up from his notebook. Connor hates that.

He shakes his head anyway, leaning back against the back of the chair. “My mom found me before I cut too deep. She cleaned them up and booked me an appointment with a therapist.”

Dr. James doesn't ask if he was put on meds then, but Connor knows that he’s aware he was. It’s the first thing Connor’s thankful for all day.

“Let’s move onto the second time. Can you explain that one?” Connor just laughs. He knows he doesn’t really have a choice.

“I um, I tried to overdose on my sister’s pain pills when I was 16,” He whispers, reaching up to rub at his eyes. “She had just had her tonsils out, and when she was asleep and my parents were downstairs I took her prescription and tried to take them all.”

Dr. James hums, setting his pencil down and looking at Connor. Connor squirms under his gaze. “Who found you that time, Connor?”

“My mom again," He whispers, for the first time realizing that it had always been his mom that he had put through all of this. “She yelled for my dad and they rushed me to the hospital. I was there for two days and then was sent to rehab for the summer.”

Dr. James nods, and Connor spends most of the few minutes of silence praying that he doesn’t ask about rehab. He can’t talk about that, not today.

“This last time you combined both.”

Connor nods.

“Did your mom find you again?”

Connor shakes his head.

“My sister’s boyfriend did.”

He hears Dr. James suck in a breath. Connor hiccups, biting his lip until the tears stop threatening to fall and the cries stop restricting his throat.

It doesn’t help.

“Tell me about you and your sister.”

Connor’s caught off guard by the question. He stutters for a moment, his head falling as he stares at his lap. He wonders if he stares at the stain on his jeans long enough if it’ll go away. If all of this will just _stop_.

He knows it won’t.

“We used to be best friends. Like when we were little,” Connor says, a smile tugging at his lips. “She’s a year younger than me. We did everything together, but then I ruined it.”

“What do you mean ruined it?”

Connor laughs softly, staring at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling until black dots dance around his eyes. “I started getting angry and um…depressed. I pushed her away, told her I hated her. When she would make me mad I’d threaten to kill her. Since then we’ve kind of just avoided each other.”

The room is silent for a moment. Connor can hear shuffling outside the door. He wishes it was someone coming to save him.

“Do you feel like you lost your best friend?”

The tears start flowing again, and Connor doesn’t bother to wipe them away. He just nods quickly.

“Zoe was the only person — the _only_ one — who didn’t look at me like I was crazy for a while. In the beginning she used to forgive me for everything. I started losing friends, but she would always try to cheer me up, tell me that we’d always be friends, that I would…I would always have her. I hated that I was losing everyone around me, but I figured if they were all leaving then Zoe probably wanted to, too. So I pushed her away before she could leave me on her own.”

“Has anything changed since you’ve been home from the hospital the last few weeks? Between you and Zoe, I mean. I do know things have changed in other aspects.”

Connor nods, clearing his throat. It doesn’t help at all. “We um, we’re trying, I think. Or I am,” He says, biting his lip until he feels like he’s slightly calmed down. “The other night she took me out for ice cream when my parents were having an argument downstairs. I guess they thought I couldn’t hear them, but Zoe knew I could and offered to take me out instead of letting me push everyone away. Which she definitely didn’t have to do. Things aren’t great, but they’re um, they’re better.”

Dr. James nods. Connor’s exhausted, glancing at the clock and realizing that he still has 10 minutes left. He thinks about asking to leave early, but he knows it’s probably not something he’ll get, and he thinks that’ll make him even sadder.

“You seem like you’re heading in the right direction in terms of progress. I know this isn’t easy, Connor. But I really think you’re trying with this, which is all we can ask for. Bad days are still going to happen, they’re not magically going to go away. But can you keep trying not to isolate yourself, even when you think that’ll be the best option for you? Your family wants to help you, Connor. Even if you can’t see it.”

He nods slowly, standing up and following him out of the room with the promise to see him in a few days.

Cynthia frowns when Connor trails behind Dr. James, his eyes red and bloodshot. Connor can hear Dr. James talking to his mom about his progress and what to look for over the next few days, but he tunes him out. He just wants to go home. He really wants to be alone, but he knows that’s the complete opposite of everything Dr. James had just told him to do.

Cynthia glances at Connor once they’re back in the car, Connor buckling his seatbelt without a word. “I’m proud of you, baby. I know this is hard for you, but we’re going to help get you better,” She mumbles, rubbing her hand against his thigh. Connor just nods, pulling away after a second.

When he asks her to watch a movie with him when they get home she resists the urge to cry, sinking down on the opposite side of the sofa from him.

It’s the happiest she’s been in years.

—

The meeting with their counselor Mrs. White goes better than Zoe expected it to, honestly. Zoe had wondered if Alana talked with her beforehand, but she doesn’t ask. She’s just grateful they got the approval.

Alana and Jared immediately start on building a website, and Evan and Zoe take to making flyers for the meeting they were going to have the following week. Zoe’s nervous about it all, but she swallows the words she was threatening to say and continues typing out the information on the counselor’s computer with her guidance, letting her check it over.

“I think this will be a really good thing for everyone, guys,” Mrs. White smiles, a gentle hand resting on Zoe’s shoulder. “I think it’s really nice that you’ve decided to help them as well, Zoe.”

Zoe isn’t dumb. She knows Mrs. White is just saying that because of everything that had happened over the last few weeks. She has half a mind to call her out for it, but her mom taught her manners, and so she just smiles and nods, biting her lip until the urge to lash out at the counselor goes away.

“Do you think we’ll get many people?” Alana asks, glancing up from Jared’s laptop as he continues to work on building the website.

Mrs. White smiles, looking between the four kids. “I think it may start off slow. Although, I find that teenagers may want to talk about things with kids their age. It’s important that you’re all open with how you feel as well. Honesty is going to be key for all of this,” Mrs. White explains, all four kids nodding quickly.

Zoe finishes off the poster and prints off a few, nudging Evan’s arm. “You okay?” She asks, and Evan nods, giving her a small smile.

Zoe’s not convinced, but decides not to press things. She doesn’t think the guidance office is the right place.

“I’ll see you guys next week when we get started. Remember, it may take a while before you see any sort of reward, but I’ll be hanging the posters and encouraging students to attend if they want so hopefully we’ll get some turnout,” Mrs. White says as they all begin to pack up their things.

Zoe thinks she’s too optimistic.

There hadn’t been much that Zoe had learned from Connor over the last few years. He was miserable, he hated talking about anything and everything, he pushed her away. But if there was something she learned between all those moments, it was to not expect much.

Because at least if you had prepared for nothing to happen you couldn’t be disappointed when those predictions came true.

Evan follows Zoe out to her car without a word, but Zoe doesn’t mind. She likes her drives with Evan, mostly because right now it feels like the only time she can just be herself. They say their goodbyes to Alana and Jared for the night, both of them slipping into the car without a word.

“How do you think this whole thing is going to go when we have the meeting next week?” Zoe asks Evan when she pulls out of school.

Evan shrugs, looking back at his girlfriend. “I hope so. But…I don’t know if I would go if I had the chance?” Evan says truthfully, which Zoe understands.

“Me either. But Alana just seems so…optimistic? I don’t want her to be upset if this doesn’t play out the way she thinks it will,” Zoe replies, and silence falls over them once more.

“So, I have something to tell you, but I don't want you to freak out or anything,” Zoe says when she pulls into Evan’s driveway, which really only makes Evan worry more.

He manages to nod anyway, unbuckling his seatbelt as he and Zoe walk up to his front porch.

“I don’t know if she told you, but your mom was the one who took Connor’s stitches out the other day,” She begins, rolling her foot onto it’s side unevenly as she looks at her boyfriend. She’s never been this nervous in front of him before. “And on the way home Connor had asked about you.”

“Oh,” Evan squeaks out, nodding his head slowly. “What did he ask?”

“He wants to meet you.”

Silence falls over the two of them, which Zoe expected, honestly. Evan doesn’t know much about Connor, but he’s heard stories of how awful he was to Zoe and pretty much everyone else, and there had been a few tense interactions between the two of them when he would go to the Murphy’s.

Zoe doesn’t have the heart to tell Evan Connor was high through all of them and he doesn’t remember.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, you know. I wouldn’t blame you,” Zoe says after a moment, reaching out to take his hand. “I mean, I get it. Connor isn’t great, you really only know him from school and the few times you’ve come over, and you found him basically dead. Like, if you didn’t want to see him I’d totally understand.”

A lump forms in Zoe’s throat after she says that.

Evan shakes his head quickly, his eyes meeting Zoe’s. “N-no. I’ll meet him. If he wants that, like, I’ll meet him? You can just tell me when?”

Evan smiles when Zoe’s face lights up.

“I’ll text him tomorrow after school and see if he’s feeling up to meeting you after. Then you can come over and work on homework for a little and Connor will just be there. And we can leave if it turns bad or whatever. But he’s been better, honestly. Our house isn’t as tense because of him.”

Evan nods, but there’s an uncomfortable sick feeling the more he thinks about it.

He kisses Zoe goodbye and stands on his porch as Zoe backs out of his driveway and pulls away, his shaky legs carrying him inside.

He counts down the hours until his mom comes home.

—

Heidi walks through the door with dinner in her hands, smiling at Evan when he looks up from his homework. He tries to smile back, but judging by the look on his mother’s face he figures it’s more of a grimace.

“Are you okay, sweetheart? Did you have a good day?” Heidi asks, which Evan thinks she can probably answer for herself.

He shrugs, setting his pencil down and closing his notebook. “We started that organization that I was telling you about? You Will Be Found, With Alana?” Evan says, standing up and following Heidi into the kitchen.

She raises her eyebrows, smiling as she grabs plates. “Is that why you seem a little stressed?” She asks, pausing to look at him. “Can you grab sodas out of the fridge?”

Evan nods quickly, grabbing two sodas and setting them out on the table as he sinks into his seat. “I mean…it’s a lot to think about starting?” Evan continues, handing his mom her Chinese food. “But um…Zoe talked to me about Connor on the way home.”

Evan’s voice is so quiet Heidi almost doesn’t hear him, but she pauses. “What about him? Did something happen?”

Evan quickly shakes his head. Heidi watches him take a deep breath, and almost tells him that they’ll just talk about it later.

“Zoe said…She said he wants to meet me. For real.”

Heidi’s eyebrows furrow, shaking her head as she looks at him. “What do you mean? You’ve never met him? I thought you’ve been at the Murphy’s a lot the last few months.”

The room is silent for a moment. Evan takes a shaky breath, shutting his eyes tightly and shaking his head. “No, I have,” He says quickly, which seems to relax Heidi. “I just…Connor used to get high a lot.”

Heidi nods, pressing her lips into a thin line. “He um, Zoe used to have us stay away from him?”

Evan wishes he could think of anything to cut the silence in the room. His eyes focus on his food in front of him, but he’s really not hungry anymore.

“Well, I think it’ll be really good for you to meet him properly then!” Heidi finally says, Evan’s head snapping up to look at her.

“W-what?”

“Evan, if Zoe thinks you’ll be okay meeting him, then you’ll be fine,” Heidi smiles, which really just makes Evan more anxious. “Did she tell you that I was his nurse the other day when he came to get his stitches out? I have met him a few times since all this happened, Evan.”

And, right.

Evan had forgotten.

“Evan, he’s a good kid deep down. They’ve got him on medication now that seems to be working. Zoe will be there and so will at least his mom, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Evan hates how annoyingly optimistic she sounds.

He just nods anyway, and Heidi slips into a conversation about something that had happened at work. He nods and half listens, his mind racing.

He doesn’t fall asleep until the early hours of the morning, his mind racing with thoughts of how meeting Connor would go.

None of the outcomes were positive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, Connor and Evan are going to meet! and Connor finally opened up to someone, even if he didn't want to.
> 
> thank you for all of the love, as always! it always makes my day to see people enjoying this :)
> 
> i saw DEH this past Sunday and wrote a recap if anyone wants to read it, or you can just follow me/talk to me on tumblr if you want! :) https://for-f0rever.tumblr.com/post/168693833548/i-saw-dear-evan-hansen-for-the-second-time-on (there are spoilers in this, FYI if you don't want them, but i'm fairly sure most people know the story now?)
> 
> more on Friday! thank you for reading <3


	16. sixteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Evan and Connor meet, and Zoe thinks things feel okay.

School starts to feel normal again, which Zoe honestly never thought would happen. She found that she was closer with Alana and Jared than ever before, and she and Evan just seemed happier.

It was…good. Better than she ever expected.

Things at home were rocky to say the least. Connor had been getting better, yes, but that didn’t magically make things like they were when they were younger. He still had bad days, Larry still doesn’t understand what he’s going through, and Zoe finds herself stuck in the middle of her parents most of the time.

She finds herself leaning on Evan a lot. More than she thought she should. She tries to distance herself a little bit, remind herself that he’s just her boyfriend, not a therapist. But it never works. He grounds her, make her feel like her life isn’t crazy and she’s not going insane.

Evan never opposes Zoe spending more time with him or venting to him more than she ever had before, but Zoe also knows he’s too nice to say anything. It’s a never ending loop she finds herself in, but right now she can’t bring herself out of it.

The more they meet and talk about You Will Be Found the more Zoe eases into it. She had been apprehensive initially, worried about the comments she’d get about being a part of it. She worried that she’d be helping strangers more than she had ever helped her brother, and she wasn’t sure how she was going to live to that.

Her mom’s been a huge help in convincing her that it’s okay. She hasn’t told Connor yet — truthfully she wasn’t sure how he would react — but she’d like to think that he’d be okay with it. She’s helping him now, and she doesn’t see the harm in helping more than one person at a time, even if one of those people happened to be her brother.

She waits by her car for Evan just like she does every other day, smiling when he walks down the steps into the lot with Alana and Jared.

“Hey, Zoe!” Alana says, running ahead of the boys to hug her. “I was just telling the boys that I have the house to myself tonight, and I figured you guys could come over and we could watch movies? If you’re busy or whatever that’s fine, we can always plan to another night!”  
Zoe smiles, taking a deep breath. “That sounds nice. Just text me what time and if I can bring anything?” She says, Alana nodding.

Zoe acts like she doesn’t see a wave of relief wash over the girl.

Zoe slips into the drivers seat, scrolling through her phone until she finds Connor’s contact.

Evan watches her carefully.

“I’m just seeing if Connor feels up to meeting you,” She says, smiling at Evan. She notices he looks uneasy. “Are you up for meeting him today?”

Evan nods quickly, a nervous laugh filling the car. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. If he’s ready then so am I.”

Zoe frowns, pulling her phone away from her face for a minute. “Are you sure? If you’re not ready we don’t have to, I can just take you home until we go to Alana’s tonight.”

Evan just shakes his head, stuttering out some sort of confirmation that he was fine and ready to meet Connor if he was ready to see him.

Zoe doesn’t believe him. She texts Connor anyway.

**Are you up for Evan coming over or no?**

_If he wants to._

**Connor. This is up to you. You said you wanted to meet him, but is today a good day?**

_It’s fine. Mom’s fucking annoying and won’t leave me alone. But I’m fine._

**You fully admitted this morning that you didn’t sleep last night. Obviously she’s worried.**

_It’s the meds. They’re the fucking worst sometimes. I took a nap anyway and she still doesn’t leave me be. I just want some fucking space?? At least for a little while??_

_Sorry._

_Is he coming over?_

**Yes. Be home in 15.**

Zoe puts her phone in the cupholder, turning to Evan and smiling. “He said today is fine. He didn’t sleep much last night, but he told me that he slept during the day, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

That only makes Evan more nervous.

—

Cynthia means well.

Connor _knows_ that. He knows she’s doing her best to help him, to show that she’s there for him.

He just wishes she did it less.

He guesses it’s warranted, he did try to kill himself for the third time a few weeks ago, and she’s worried. But she’s just so _suffocating_ , to the point where Connor doesn’t think he’s going to be able to control his temper with her anymore.

“Do you want something to eat?” Cynthia asks, hovering in Connor’s doorway. She’s been doing that most of the morning, even if she didn’t say anything every time. “You’ve been up here all day, sweetheart.”

Connor rolls over, parting his eyes just enough to see his mother staring at him. Her look almost makes him feel guilty.

Almost.

“‘m not hungry,” He mumbles, his voice muffled by the pillow. Cynthia clicks her tongue, taking careful steps into her son’s room.

She lingers by the desk, her fingers resting against the cool wood. “You have to eat something, Connor. You can’t take your medicine on an empty stomach.”

And, oh. Right. The medicine.

That’s all she really cared about, isn’t it?

“The medicine isn’t fucking helping.”

“Connor,” Cynthia begins, her face softening.

Connor knows he just lied. He doesn’t care.

“No, Mom. I just can’t fucking do this anymore.” He turns, pushing his head into the pillow. “I can’t keep feeling like this! I just, I don’t want to do this anymore!”

Cynthia bites her lip until the tears no longer threaten to fall. “Connor, honey, this isn’t easy, I know it’s not. I wish I could take away all the pain and hurting that you go through and make you happy, but I can’t.”

Connor doesn’t say anything.

“I love you, Connor. More than you could ever realize or comprehend. I know there are going to be bad days and good days. I know you can’t sleep sometimes and you lash out, but I don’t think you mean any of it. I see you trying, Connor. You can deny it all you want, but I think you really are trying.”

“You’re just saying all of this because you’re my mom.”

That’s the statement that hurts the most.

Connor rolls over, taking a deep breath and staring at the ceiling.

“I’m actually fucking trying, but all I get in return is you and Dad fighting and Dad yelling at me on every fucking bad day. Which surprise, is most days. All you want from me is to take these meds as if they magically fix me, and you want me to just be normal. That’s all you want to be able to tell your friends, that I’m fucking normal.”

Connor throws his spare pillow at the wall. Cynthia flinches.

“I love you, Connor, and none of what you said is true. I love you through all the good days and the bad days, whether you want to believe it or not,” Cynthia mumbles, moving to stand in the doorway. “When you’re ready to come eat something and take your medicine, I’ll be downstairs.”

It takes Connor an hour and a half to muster up the energy to go downstairs. He acts like he doesn’t see how excited Cynthia is to see him standing there.

“What do you think you can stomach? Do you want to try some eggs?”

Connor really doesn’t think he can stomach anything. He nods anyway.

Cynthia sets a plate of eggs in front of him, his pills off to the side. He thanks her quietly and pretends like he doesn’t notice her glances while he’s swallowing down the plate of food.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Connor breaks the silence, reaching for his milk to take a sip. “Earlier? When I yelled at you? I didn’t mean it.”

Cynthia nods, folding the dish towels and putting them away. “I know this isn’t easy for you, Connor. I’m never going to pretend like it is.”

“Can you get Dad to work on that?”

It earns a laugh from Cynthia. He smiles. “I’m going to be right behind you every step of the way. But you’re not going to get a free pass on behavior while we’re working on this.”

Connor nods. He knows that’s fair.

“Take your pills and then maybe go watch a movie and try to sleep? No offense, sweetheart, but you look exhausted.”

Connor nods again, but the only thing running through his mind is how a few months ago his mom telling him to take his pills would’ve set him off. He would’ve thrown things around the kitchen, probably cursed her out and told her that nothing was going to fix him.

Now he just does as he’s told.

He feels like he’s done the bare minimum, but it’s something.

—

The ride to the Murphy’s is quiet, and Evan eventually turns the radio up to cut the tension. It’s easily the most anxious he’s felt around Zoe in months, shaking his leg uncontrollably. He thinks Zoe tells him to calm down and they can back out if he’s not ready, but he only shakes his head.

He needs to do this. For Zoe. It’s all going to be fine.

“It’s so nice to see you, Evan! It’s been far too long,” Cynthia smiles as she wraps both Evan and Zoe in hugs.

Evan pretends like he isn’t suffocating.

“N-Nice to see you, too,” Evan says quietly. Zoe’s smile calms him down.

They kick their shoes off and walk into the kitchen, and Evan can see Connor laying on the sofa in the other room. He doesn’t say anything, but he turns to Zoe and can tell she notices too.

“Connor is watching a movie. I’m going to go upstairs and get some things done. You’ll be okay alone?” Cynthia asks, and Zoe nods immediately.

Evan turns back and notices Connor walking into the room, his hair tied in a bun. It’s the first time Evan’s seen him wear anything other than skinny jeans, the black sweatpants hanging off his body as if they’re far too big for him. He thinks Connor tries to smile, and so he smiles back.

“Evan, right?” Connor asks, Zoe pausing to look at the two boys.

Evan nods quickly, sighing. “Y-yeah, Evan.”

Connor leans against the counter, and Zoe cautiously moves around the kitchen as she finds food for the three of them. She doesn’t think Connor will actually eat anything.

“I guess I should probably say thanks? For um…for saving my life?” Zoe’s hand freezes on the door of the fridge, and she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I um, I owe you.”

Evan just nods, twisting uncomfortably. “It’s…it’s okay,” He says quietly, clearing his throat. “I’m just glad you’re okay? Or well, that you’re going to be okay?”

Connor manages to laugh at that, nodding.

“Connor, do you want something to eat?” Zoe asks, breaking the awkwardness between the boys. Connor’s head whips around to look at his sister, shrugging.

“Just make popcorn and come out to the living room? We can hang out there?”

Zoe nods. Evan just stays silent and doesn’t say anything.

“It’s fine,” Zoe whispers when Connor’s left the room, and Evan nods.

Because it is. It’s not nearly as bad as Evan thought it would be.

Connor has on some action movie that Zoe thinks he doesn’t have any interest in. She protests, and eventually they agree on some comedy movie they’ve both seen before. Evan stays quiet, and when they ask for him to be a deciding factor he just shrugs until they stop thinking he’ll tell them.

That’s how he plans to go through the rest of the afternoon. He doesn’t think he’s going to be successful.

“So, Evan, how long have you been dating my sister?” Evan looks up from his lap and looks to see that Connor is looking at him. For a moment he thinks about being smart with him, reminding him that he had been there the whole time.

He doesn’t think it would go over well, and so he chickens out.

“Um, six months?” He says, and it ends up coming out as more of a question than a definitive answer.

Connor smiles. It feels awkward. “Well, seems like I’ve missed out on a lot then.”

“You were there, Connor.”

Connor looks to his sister, and for a brief moment Evan wonders if he’s going to freak out. To stand up and yell at her like Zoe has told him he’s done so many times before.

He just shrugs instead. Evan figures the meds must be working.

“I was high.”

He says it like it’s the most simple answer in the world. That that’s an normal thing families say without thinking about it. Evan figures it probably is for them.

He _knew_ Connor was high most of the time. He knew he had been dependent on weed when he stopped taking his meds before the most recent suicide attempt. It’s one of the only things Zoe hasn’t hid about her brother. Connor would show up to school high most of the time, but he was scarily good at playing it off like he wasn’t.

Evan wonders if weed would help sometimes. He’s thought about trying it, but then he thinks about his mom and what she would do if she found out he was doing illegal drugs, and he works himself up into a panic. Sure, weed wasn’t that bad. But his mom had always just been so _worried_ about him, and he couldn’t disappoint her.

Not over something like this.

“Well, now you can make up for it! I think the two of you have a lot in common.” Evan stares at Zoe in shock. She just smiles at him, reaching over and taking his hand.

The three of them settle into the movie, and for a moment Evan relaxes. Zoe’s hand is still in his, and she’s curled up against him. It’s as if Connor isn’t even there, even though Evan can see him moving on the sofa, pulling the blanket back over him. Connor looks zoned out, Evan thinks, but he remembers Zoe saying something about how he didn’t sleep and he figures the meds also help that, so he forces himself to stop staring.

He doesn’t want to think about what Connor would do if he caught him staring. He doesn’t think it would end well.

The movie finishes and Connor turns back on regular TV. They settle on Food Network, and judging by how little argument there was Evan wonders if this was the one thing they got along about.

Zoe excuses herself to the bathroom, and Evan’s anxiety comes back full force. He stares at his lap, picking at a string on his khakis. Connor clears his throat, but Evan doesn’t look up.

“Zoe seems…happy,” Connor says quietly. Evan forces himself to look at him, not surprised when Connor’s looking in his direction. “With you. Zoe seems happy with you.”

“O-oh,” Evan stutters out, folding his hands together anxiously. “Yeah. We are, yeah,” Evan nods. “Or at least I think she is happy…with me.”

He thinks he hears Connor laugh.

“I don’t know how much she’s told you, but I’ve put her through hell the last few years. We used to be close.” Evan doesn’t say anything, he figures Connor just wants to talk. “I’ve been trying to work on things? And I think she can tell. But I don’t want to mess this up with her.”

“I um, I don’t think you will, Connor. She seems to be happier? Like when she does tell me about how you two are talking through things, she seems happier,” Evan says. He’s surprised when Connor nods.

“Just, I don’t know. God, I barely know you and I’m venting to you about my sister,” Connor laughs, nervously retying his hair up as he stares at the TV.

Evan just nods, he isn’t really sure what to say. He doesn’t feel like he knows Connor well enough to say anything else.

“Look, I may have been a shitty brother to her the last few years, but I’m still protective of her,” Connor says, Evan’s head snapping up to look at him. “Just don’t fucking hurt her, or I’ll have to hurt you.”

Evan swallows the lump in his throat.

Connor quickly shakes his head, sighing. “Fuck, that’s probably not the right thing for me to say, is it? I mean, I’ve literally beat kids up before and you know that,” Connor says, half-laughing. “I won’t _hurt_ you or beat you up, Hansen, but I’ll be really upset and probably yell at you.”

Evan doesn’t think that makes it any better.

“I’ve hurt her enough over the last few years. You don’t get to break her heart, too. Just, treat her right? Please?”

Evan nods, folding his hands together. He’s not surprised to find that they’re sweaty. “Y-yeah, okay,” He stutters out, Connor trying to smile at him. Evan barely smiles in return.

Zoe walks back into the room, smiling between the two boys before sitting back down next to Evan. “Is everything okay?”

Connor glances at Evan, before turning back to his sister.

“Yeah, everything is fine,” Connor says, his voice short.

Zoe nods, and the three of them begin debating who should win Cupcake Wars.

Connor doesn’t say much, but Zoe takes him not storming off as a success.

She hates that it’s something that little that they’re celebrating, but she reminds herself it’s progress, even if she doesn’t always see it as that.

—

Zoe ends up stopping at the grocery store and picking up cupcakes on their way to Alana’s. Evan doesn’t protest, but he does feebly attempt to convince Zoe that chocolate icing is the devil and they should just get all vanilla.

He doesn’t win the argument.

“So, I think you meeting Connor went well!” Zoe says as she navigates rush hour traffic, texting Alana at a red light quickly to let her know they were on their way.

Evan just shrugs. “I guess,” He says quietly, looking over at Zoe as she continues driving. “I mean we didn’t say much and he fell asleep right after the movie.”

Zoe nods, but she’s not upset. She knows Evan is right, that it could’ve gone better than it did. But it also went way better than either of them thought it would. “Well, at least you met him! Now we can hang out at my house more. Or at least when Connor is having a good day. I won’t put you through his bad days.”

Evan’s thankful for that.

Jared’s car is already in Alana’s driveway when Zoe pulls in behind it, grabbing the cupcakes from Evan’s lap and walking up to the front door. Before they can knock Alana opens it, looking entirely too excited to see them.

“Oh my god, you didn’t have to bring cupcakes!” She says, taking them from Zoe’s hands and setting them down next to the pizza she had ordered. Zoe just says something about how it was the least they could do, but she’s not even sure Alana heard her.

They decide on no scary movies, mostly because Evan protests that he’ll have anxiety attacks for the rest of the night if they do. Jared teases him lightheartedly, but eventually settles on comedies. Zoe wonders if she would win the battle of watching an animated movie before the night is over.

“So, where did you two go after school?” Jared asks in between bites of pizza, raising his eyebrows. “Evan your mom works late on Fridays, doesn’t she?”

Evan’s cheeks flush a dark red, quickly shaking his head. “Y-yeah she does. But we weren’t um…we weren’t at my house?”

“Oh so in the car?”

“No, Jared!” Evan says, and Zoe feels like she needs to step in and save her boyfriend, despite having to bite back a smile through most of it.

“We were at my house,” She interjects, Jared’s gaze shifting to her. “Connor asked if he could meet Evan properly, and so since he was having a good day we went today.”

The room falls silent.

Zoe can’t say she’s surprised. That’s how most of the conversations about her brother had gone over the last few years.

“Does he know about the project? You know…You Will Be Found?”

Zoe laughs, quickly shaking her head. Alana seems to relax.

“I um, I don’t think we’re there yet. He and I have a complicated relationship. We haven’t been perfect since he’s been home, but it’s been better,” Zoe says, twisting her ring around her finger. “I just don’t think we’re at the stage where I can tell him about this without him freaking out.”

Everyone seems to understand, and the conversation ends after that.

It’s just a night with friends, and one that Zoe feels like she desperately needed. They’re not talking about the organization or her brother, they’re just hanging out.

It just feels normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so things are looking up, barely! also i had to put the protective Connor in because deep down i really do think he cared about Zoe, he just didn't always express it/know how to.
> 
> thank you for all the reads/kudos/comments on this story :) seeing them really makes my day honestly :)
> 
> more on tuesday! have a happy Christmas if you celebrate it! <3


	17. seventeen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Connor has a bad day and Zoe feels like she's ruined everything.

Zoe feels like she’s jinxing it if she says things with Connor have been going well. Sure, there’s been plenty of fights and a lot of Connor hiding out in his room, yelling at anyone who tried to talk to him. But overall it had been better, at least between the two of them.

To put it lightly, Connor is having a bad day. Even by his standards, this is one of the worst days he’s had since he’s come home from the hospital. 

Zoe can’t stop the fear in her mind that he’ll try to attempt again. That this will be the day he attempts, and she’ll lose him.

She hates it.

Connor's been in his room most of the day, much to Larry’s dismay. Cynthia had managed to get him to take his meds and eat a little something, which seems like bright spot of the day. Zoe wonders how pathetic that sounds to other people, celebrating the fact that her brother didn’t fight his meds on a day where his depression is suffocating him.

She sits in her room across the hall from Connor’s, leaving her door cracked. It’s for her own sanity, really, but she can’t help but wonder if Connor would come in and talk to her about how he was feeling.

She knows he won’t.

Zoe busies her mind by working on parts of the website that Alana and Jared had assigned to her, their first meeting looming in just a few days. She’s nervous to say the least, but Jared said that they had been getting clicks on the website and people seemed to be taking to it, so her faith raises. All she wants to do is help people, even if she had been awful at it before.

She’s in the middle of furiously typing up an about page when she sees her door open, but doesn’t bother to look up. She figures it’s just her mom, and if she has something to say she’ll just start talking. Zoe’s learned that by now.

“You’re obviously busy, I’ll just go away.” It’s not Cynthia’s voice, and when Zoe looks up she’s surprised to see Connor standing in her doorway.

He looks awful to say the least. There’s dark purple circles under his eyes, and the sweatshirt he had been sleeping in for the last three weeks hangs off his body, which really only worries Zoe more. She doesn’t think he could’ve lost more weight.

“No, it’s okay,” Zoe says, her voice startling herself when she finds the chance to speak up. “You can um, you can stay,” She nods, shutting her laptop and patting the side of her bed.

Connor sits in her desk chair instead. She pretends like it doesn’t bother her.

“Were you um, were you working on something?” 

Zoe sighs. This is the moment she should tell him, but he’s clearly having an awful day. She doesn’t think it’s the right time.

“It’s not a big deal, I can work on it later.”

“What was it?”

Zoe bites her lip, looking back at him. He’s staring at the strings on his sweatpants. Zoe wonders what he’s thinking about. “If I tell you, will you promise not to freak out?”

Her heart rate picks up. She’s afraid that alone is going to set him off.

Connor stares at his lap intently, laughing. “I can’t fucking promise that.” His voice is low, but Zoe knows she’s in too deep to back out now.

“After um, after everything happened Alana and Jared had approached me and Evan about starting a support group? For people who may feel like they’re alone and they don’t have anyone who relates to them. I said I would help, and I was going to tell you but I just couldn’t think of the right time and I didn’t think we were um, we were there yet?” Zoe’s speaking quickly, her eyes staring at Connor.

Connor doesn’t say anything, just shaking his head. HIs breathing is erratic, and Zoe wishes that there was something that she could do to make him feel better. She figures he probably wouldn’t want her right now. “Connor. I’m sorry. Just please, say something.”

“How fucking dare you do this!” Connor says, his voice cracking. Somehow that hurts Zoe more. “For years I’ve been crying out for help, and you acted like you didn’t know me. Now you’re helping me and suddenly you can become fucking Mother Teresa and help everyone while helping me!? All because Alana Beck and Jared fucking Kleinman asked you to? What the fuck, Zoe!”

“Connor, please,” Zoe pleads, beginning to cry. She tilts her head back, blinking away the tears and taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know. I promised I’d be there for you and I am, but I felt like if I could help you and other people it’s a win-win. I do care about you. I always have, but I was scared of you!”

Connor laughs at that, standing up. Zoe really shouldn’t be surprised when he throws a frame to the ground that was on her desk. Her desk chair is the next to flip.

“I should’ve known this would happen. That you’d turn my fucking sob story into some way you could help yourself. How the fuck could I be so stupid!?”

“Connor, please!”

“No, Zoe! Fuck you! Just, don’t talk to me.”

Connor punches her wall on his way out, and Zoe can hear him screaming into his pillow across the hall. Him throwing things comes not long after.

She just hopes it doesn’t get any worse.

—

Zoe’s footsteps are heavy against the hardwood floor of the staircase, and Cynthia turns to find Zoe running into the kitchen, her eyes wide and face pale.

“Mom, I need to go to Evan’s. Please, can I go?” She pleads, breathless and worried. “I need to leave, Mom.”

“Zoe, calm down and take a deep breath,” Cynthia says, but her calming tone does nothing to help Zoe calm down at all. 

It really only makes her more panicked.

“What’s going on? What has you so panicked?” Cynthia asks, reaching forward to brush Zoe's hair away from her face. “Did something happen on your laptop? Or did you get a text or something?”

Zoe wishes it was just that. She wishes she could’ve just deleted a rude text or email that she had gotten about her brother or about the organization. But this was different.

“Connor…I pissed him off, Mom. We were doing so well and now he hates me and he’s never going to forgive me or trust me ever again! I’ve lost him again.” Zoe sucks in a deep breath, shaking her head and rubbing at her eyes. “I told him about You Will Be Found and how I wanted to help other people and him at the same time and he freaked out. Told me that for years I never cared about him but now I do and I think I could save everyone. He told me…he told me that he shouldn’t have trusted that I really cared or anything.”

“I lost him, Mom. I lost him and I can’t get him back and I’m the worst sister!” 

Without thinking, Cynthia pulls Zoe against her chest. “Oh, Zoe,” She whispers, her hands running through her daughter’s hair.

No words she could think of saying feels like enough.

“You can go to Evan’s,” She breathes out, Zoe pulling away from her chest. “Don’t stay too late, but you can go.” Zoe nods, wiping at her eyes as she thanks her mom quietly.

“For the record, I don’t think you’ve lost your brother. This is a big shock to him, and a lot for him to take in. I’ll talk to him, but be patient and give it time. Please don’t give up on him,” She whispers, worry filling her own mind as she looks at her daughter.

Zoe just nods slowly, grabbing her things and kissing her mother’s cheek goodbye.

Cynthia stands in the kitchen at a loss for what to do knowing that her daughter needed to leave the house to feel like she feels better, and her son is up in his room hurting more than he has in weeks.

She doesn’t know how to fix things, and she’s terrified.

—

Evan’s house is warm and quiet, the sharp contrast to the Murphy’s home in the current moment. Zoe arrives breathless and teary-eyed, and she can see Evan is nervous. She leans forward to kiss him quickly, shutting the front door behind her.

“Sorry, I should’ve like, asked if you were free or something? I just, I couldn’t be in my house right now, I just needed out,” She says quickly, but Evan just nods.

“I um, I invited Jared and Alana over? If that’s…if that’s okay? I can tell them to go home if you want,” Evan says quickly, breathing a sigh of relief when Zoe smiles.

“That's fine. The more people the better, you know? I promise I’ll talk about what happened when they get here? I just…I don’t think I can say it twice,” She says, which Evan understands.

Jared and Alana arrive with pizza and drinks in hand, but Zoe doesn’t think she’s going to be able to stomach to eat. “You look rough, Murphy. Want to talk?” Jared asks, and Zoe figures that Evan just told them to come over and didn’t tell them that it was because she was upset.

Zoe nods, thanking Evan when he hands her a plate with a piece of pizza on it. She sets it in her lap, promising herself to at least try to eat some of it, even though she feels like she could throw up at any moment.

“So, Connor knows about You Will Be Found,” Zoe breathes out, Jared choking on his drink. “And he um, he didn’t take it well?”

Alana looks over at her in concern now, briefly wondering if this was just for Zoe to tell them that she wasn’t going to help out with the organization anymore.

She doesn’t think she can take that kind of rejection right now. Not when things had been going so well.

“He’s having a bad day. Like holed up in his room, doesn’t want to talk to anyone kind of bad day. God, he’d hate for you to know that,” Zoe says, shaking her head. “My mom got him to take his meds, and I was in my room with the door half open when he walked in and asked me what I was working on. I felt like I had no choice but to tell him.”

Everyone nods, and Evan reaches over to take her hand. Zoe tries to smile at him, taking a deep breath. “He started freaking out, saying that I betrayed him and he should have known not to trust me after the last few years of me not helping him. That me helping him now doesn’t mean that I should just go and help everyone too. He um, he threw things? Which isn’t like…uncharacteristic for Connor. But he was doing it this time because of me?”

The room is silent for a moment. Zoe expected it, but it doesn’t mean she feels any better about it.

“I-if he’s having a bad day, I don’t think you can really take his reaction seriously?” Evan says, quickly shaking his head. “Like um, like when I’m having a bad day I say things I don’t mean? But then when I think about it it makes it better? I um, I don’t know.”

Zoe nods, taking a deep breath and looking back at her. “I just hate that I told him now. I knew it was a bad day, but I still told him.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that. Maybe he’ll come around to it? You’re not just going to stop helping him,” Alana says, and Zoe nods.

She takes a deep breath, forcing herself to eat a bite of pizza. “Can we um, can we just watch movie or play a game or something? I kind of need a distraction from every single thought in my head right now,” She says, which everyone immediately agrees to.

Evan stays by her side the whole night, which really means more to Zoe than she thought it would.

—

At a loss on what to do Cynthia decides staying in the kitchen for a little is the best option. She can hear Connor throwing things upstairs, but figures there isn’t anything he can use to hurt himself, so it’s best to let him go.

She’s not sure that’s the right option.

Larry wasn’t due back home for at least another hour after a golf outing with his colleagues, and Cynthia is relieved about that. All she can think about is how he’d be ripping Connor out of his room and force him to sit downstairs with them where he wouldn’t be able to throw anything or hurt anyone.

That just sounds like the worst option in this situation. 

After scrubbing every surface of their kitchen clean and running out of things to occupy her mind Cynthia finds herself slowly ascending the steps, more worried about what she’s going to find when she arrives at her son’s room.

There’s things laying all over the floor, anything he could get his hands on being thrown. Connor is laying on his bed staring at the ceiling, his breathing labored and erratic. Cynthia knows she needs to talk to him, and she hates that she’s scared of what’s going to happen when she does.

“Connor, honey?” She says, breaking the silence in the room. 

Connor doesn’t making any effort to move, but his hand clenches and releases, and so Cynthia steps in. She decides to sit in his desk chair, not wanting to crowd his space or get too close to him.

“You don’t have to say anything, but I just want to talk to you, okay?” She asks, smiling to herself when Connor just grunts in response.

“I know today isn’t a good day. I know that for whatever reason, you’re finding it hard to get out of bed. I don’t understand why this happens to you after having so many good days, or why it has to happen to you at all. I’m not going to pretend how you feel because I don’t, and I’m not sure that I’m ever going to understand. But that doesn’t mean my support is ever going to waver when it comes to your mental health and recovery.”

Connor sighs, and Cynthia bites her lips as she braces herself for his reaction to the next part. 

“You’re not going to want to hear this, but Zoe told me what happened between the two of you.” 

Connor’s breathing quickens again. His fist balls up, and for a moment Cynthia braces herself to have to dodge him throwing something — if he has anything left to throw.

“Breathe, baby. In and out, nice and slow,” She reminds him, surprised when he listens. She waits until his breathing is better before continuing. “I’m not asking you to agree with Zoe helping out with the support group. I’m not asking you to want to know everything about it, or understand your sister’s motives for why she wanted to be a part of it. But I do want you to think about it.”

There’s a pause, and Cynthia reaches up to run her fingers through her hair. “Connor, you and Zoe had been working so hard on fixing things between the two of you. I know you’re upset with her for going behind your back and working on this after the few years you’ve had, but I don’t think this is the one thing you need to throw that progress out over.”

Cynthia stands up, taking one look at her son and sighing. The light behind his eyes is all but gone, and she can’t help but think back to all the bad times they’ve had over the last few years.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need me. I love you, Connor.”

She pretends like she doesn’t hear him crying as she stands at the top of the steps. She doesn’t think he’d want her to help, not today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> connor couldn't have all good days! but ugh my heart rereading this :(
> 
> as always, thank you for all the love on this story! if you celebrate Christmas i hope you had a nice holiday! and if you don't i hope your monday was nice :)
> 
> you can follow me/talk to me on tumblr if you'd like! for-f0rever.tumblr.com
> 
> i'll post again on friday as always :)


	18. eighteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Zoe and Connor talk, and things seem better until Larry arrives.

Sunday morning comes far too quickly for Zoe’s liking, and she wonders if jumping out her window and running away to Evan’s is acceptable.

She had snuck back in well after 11, quietly creeping past Connor’s room in hopes that he didn’t wake up. She lets her mom know she’s home with a quick text, not surprised when she doesn’t respond. She figures Cynthia will yell at her later for staying at Evan’s so late.

She quietly makes her way downstairs after realizing that Connor was still asleep, surprised to find a note on the kitchen counter.

_Went to pilates for an hour or two with Mrs. Harris. I’ll be home soon. Your father had to go into the office for a little while, so it’s just the two of you home. Connor, I’ll give you your meds when I’m back. Love you guys, Mom._

Zoe wishes she would’ve just stayed home.

She quietly moves around the kitchen, pouring herself cereal and making coffee, praying that Connor doesn’t wake up while their parents aren’t home.

She knows that wish is too good to be true, and as Connor’s feet pad against the hardwood, she hears them stop just behind her.

“Mom is at pilates with Mrs. Harris and Dad had to go into the office. Mom said she’d give you your meds when she’s home. I don’t know where she hides them, otherwise I’d just give them to you,” She says quietly, keeping her back to her brother. “Personally I think Dad needing to go to the office is a lie. It’s Sunday, what kind of person needs a lawyer on a Sunday.”

She swears she hears Connor laugh at that.

When she knows she’s stirred her coffee for far too long she tosses the spoon in the sink, turning and walking towards the island. She and Connor lock eyes, and she gives him a half smile.

He just sighs in return.

The room is quiet, but not uncomfortable, Zoe thinks. There’s a lot left unsaid between them, things she wishes she had the courage to say. But right now she can’t gauge if it’s a good day or a bad day, or if her brother hates her more than he ever has before.

So she fixes her eyes on her cereal and tries not to make too much noise as he makes himself breakfast.

“‘m sorry for having a bad day yesterday,” Connor mumbles, his fingers tapping against the granite as he waits for his toast to pop.

Zoe looks over at him, not surprised to see him staring at the calendar Cynthia had hung up on the side of the fridge. It’s mostly filled with appointments for him, but she doesn’t even think he’s reading it.

“You need to stop apologizing for your bad days. I know you con’t really control them, so why bother apologizing for them?”

Connor laughs, looking over at her. “It’s funny to hear you say that I should apologize less when your boyfriend apologizes almost every other sentence.”

Zoe blushes at that, realizing he has a point. “He’s not apologizing because of his bad days though, so I can’t really get mad at him. He knows they’re a part of his recovery.”

Connor’s eyebrows furrow, turning to look at her. “Recovery?”

Zoe rolls her eyes, setting her spoon down in her now empty bowl. “In case you’ve been completely oblivious, he has anxiety to the extreme. It’s gotten a little better, I guess? I don’t know, I think there’s more to it, but he hasn’t said and I don’t want to press it.”

Connor nods, jumping when the toaster pops. “Well, since you won’t let me apologize for a bad day, then I’m sorry for throwing things and scaring you yesterday.”

Connor sits in the chair two down from Zoe, and she knows he did it on purpose. She’s still a little nervous around him, afraid that one little movement will set him off, even though she knows he won’t freak out, at least not in this moment.

“Look, I get that you can’t control your anger sometimes, and bad days make it worse. Trust me, I understand that part of it. But I need you to keep trying to prevent that. Because the Connor that was throwing things and freaking out last night isn’t a Connor I can be around. Not only for my own safety, but for yours too.”

Connor nods, taking slow bites of his toast as he traces the pattern of the granite with his free hand. Zoe gets up to pour herself more coffee, offering him some.

“Can’t have that much caffeine with the meds,” He mutters, and Zoe wonders if that’s the first time he’s listened to doctor’s orders while on a medication.

“Mom um, Mom talked to me about the support group last night when she came to check on me.”

Zoe freezes, looking back at her brother with worry. It’s in that moment she wishes she could gauge his reaction, figure out what he was thinking or what he was going to say.

She lets the wish that one of her parents would get home cross her mind. She’s afraid of what Connor is going to do.

“Oh,” She finally squeaks out, Connor swallowing his bite of toast as he looks up at her.

“I mean, I don’t have to agree with it, I guess, but you’re doing it because you’re you and you want to help people. Which is…nice.”

Zoe nods, standing up to get more cereal. She hates that she doesn’t know what to say.

“I shouldn't have brought it up yesterday,” She says quietly, staring at her bowl as more cereal falls in. “I’ve been keeping it from you for weeks, and I should have just waited until you were having a better day to tell you about it.”

Connor nods, but he doesn’t seem upset. Zoe wishes she knew why.

“I’m um, I’m glad you told me? You’re trying to do a nice thing because of what happened to me. I just can’t have you help other people more than you help me.”

“Connor —“

“Call me selfish or whatever but like, you’re the only person in this fucking family who treats me like a human. Mom hovers and worries way too much for me to feel like I can be honest with her, and Dad is…Dad. He doesn’t care, or he acts like he doesn’t. So I need you to be that person and I’m sorry if I’m relying on you too much but if you want me to get better and me to feel like I don’t want to die all the time, then you need to be there for me.”

Zoe nods quickly, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I’m not going to stop supporting you. You’re my brother, obviously you come first.”

Connor nods. The silence in the room is deafening, but neither of them have any words to say. Connor wonders if the urge to grab a knife and hold it to his wrists will ever go away.

He decides not to ask his sister.

“Can you uh, can you show me more about this organization?”

Zoe’s face lights up when she looks at her brother, nodding as she disappears upstairs for a moment and returns with her laptop.

They spend the rest of the morning sitting on the sofa looking at the website and having Zoe explain things, and for a moment everything feels normal.

Like they were two little kids again and nothing else could hurt them.

Zoe never wanted this moment to end.

—

Cynthia just needed a break.

She hated to admit it, hated to say that she needed a break away from her own house and taking care of her son. Connor had been her sole worry over the last few weeks, months, and even years, but she couldn’t help but feel like she needed to just have an hour to herself.

She had agreed to go to pilates with Laurie Harris weeks in advance. It was a class she had gone to countless of times before, but one that had been forgotten since Connor’s hospital admission. The mere thought of just being back with her friends brought excitement to her life that she previously wondered if she would ever get back.

The morning she was supposed to meet Laurie at pilates she almost canceled. Connor hadn’t had a good day the day before, Zoe was still upset from everything that happened, and Larry had announced that he needed to go into the office for a few hours to get some things done. She worried about leaving Connor and Zoe home alone, wondering if Connor would find something to use to hurt himself, or he would end up hurting Zoe this time while no one else was there.

In the end she leaves a note on the counter and figures Zoe will call if anything goes wrong. She keeps her phone by her side during the class, but finds that it’s the most relaxing hour and a half of her life. She felt the stress and tension leave her body, her mind slowly clearing of everything that had been worrying her. It was the first time in months she felt like things were going to be okay.

Cynthia hates to say that she’s surprised to open the front door to see Connor and Zoe curled up on the couch together looking at her laptop, but it’s definitely not what she expected. To make things even more shocking, Connor’s head was resting on Zoe’s shoulder. He doesn’t look like he slept much, but Cynthia knows better than to ask.

“Hi, guys,” Cynthia smiles, hanging up her jacket and leaving her yoga mat by the front door. “How long have you two been up?”

Zoe pulls her eyes away from her laptop while Connor keeps reading, smiling. “Not long, maybe an hour,” She says, and Cynthia sees the hope in her daughter’s eyes.

She doesn’t want it to ever leave.

“Connor, sweetheart, did you eat something?” It’s Connor’s turn to look up at her, glancing quickly as he nods before going back to reading.

“He did, he made himself toast,” Zoe answers for him, Cynthia mumbling something about going to get his medicine before disappearing into the kitchen, returning with some water and his pills.

Connor doesn’t put up a fight when she gives them to him, and that alone gives her hope that this is going to be a better day than the day before.

“I’m going to shower quickly, will you two be okay alone?”

Connor looks over at his mom, giving her a look that says everything. “We’re 17 and 16, Mom. We’ll be fine,” He says, and Cynthia nods.

She pretends like she doesn’t have to worry about Connor having an outburst for a moment. She wonders if that will ever be their normal.

—

Cynthia scraps all her plans to get things done around the house in favor of spending time with Zoe and Connor. They decide on having a movie day, old Disney movies playing on their television on loop. Connor only protests when Zoe goes to put on another princess movie, falling pathetically so his head rests in Cynthia’s lap when Zoe reluctantly puts on _Aladdin_ , even if she didn’t want to watch that one.

Cynthia has to restrain herself from running her fingers through Connor’s long hair. She figures he wouldn’t want that just yet.

“Why did Dad have to go to the office today?” Connor asks not long after the movie began, Zoe turning around from her spot in the chair to look at her mom and brother.

Cynthia sighs, twisting her wedding ring around her finger. She doesn’t think she has the answer for her kids. “He said he had some things to work on there that he should’ve done yesterday but he had the golf outing. I’m not sure, he didn’t say what exactly it was he was working on.”

“Do you really believe him?” Zoe asks, and Connor rolls over to look up at Cynthia as well.

She closes her eyes, shaking her head slowly. “Do I think he went to the office? Yes. But I don’t think he’s catching up on work or working on new things like he says he is. I think he just wanted to leave the house.”

The room is silent for a minute. _Aladdin_ is long forgotten about.

“He just keeps running away from the problem,” Connor says, his voice so quiet that they barely hear him. “I’m the fucking problem, I’m well aware of that. But any time I freak out or lash out or do literally anything that doesn’t resemble a normal fucking teenager he just yells at me until he feels better, or tells me that I’m not even trying. Now he’s finding excuses not to be here.”

“Connor, honey —“

“Mom, you don’t have to sugarcoat it. I’m well aware that I’m a lot of the problem in this family. But I’m trying. I’m trying so hard in therapy and with the medicine and everything else that they want me to try, but it’s not magic. I’m not going to just be this happy person now. This is so hard and he doesn’t even care.”

The room is silent. Zoe thinks about turning the movie off, but she knows that Connor is watching. Instead they all try to focus on it, Connor’s breathing heavy through the room as he stays with his head on Cynthia’s lap.

Her fingers rake through his hair, and he doesn’t pull away.

—

Larry comes through the door as the sun begins to set and dinner should really be getting started, surprised to find the rest of his family in the living room watching movies together. Cynthia is the first to look at him, but she doesn’t look happy.

He guesses he should’ve expected that.

“I figured we could just ordered pizza or something,” She says quietly, and Larry just nods.

He drops his things and sits down on the chair opposite Zoe, but can feel his daughter’s eyes on him. “So I take it today is a much better day than yesterday.”

Connor sits up, looking at him. “That tends to be how it works. I don’t just have bad days all the time. Some days are better than others.”

Larry turns to look at him, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “If it was up to me, you’d be punished for what you pulled yesterday. I don’t care how bad a day is, yelling at your sister and throwing things to the point where she left the house isn’t a good sign. There was nothing else you could’ve done?”

Zoe looks at her brother with fearful eyes, his hands rolled into fists resting on his lap. Cynthia sits beside him, biting her lip and whispering some comforting words to him, helping him calm down.

It’s not working.

Connor wants to get up and hit his father. He wants to _smack_ him. He hates that he feels like this, but right now the anger is bubbling inside of him, begging for a release.

He’s had good day, really. He forced himself to stay with his mom and sister, and it ended up being a good thing. Everything just felt…better with just them around. Like he could be vulnerable and talk about the bad days. It doesn’t feel like that when his dad is home.

“Surprise, sometimes I can’t contain my anger. Bad days are hard for me to remember what I’m supposed to do with all the anger inside of me. I already apologized to Zoe, and I don’t really know how you’d punish me when I don’t fucking leave the house without Mom, and I don’t have friends who come over or care to see how I am!”

Zoe cringes at that. Larry’s eyes are on her.

“And you forgave him for scaring you like that?”

Zoe shrugs. “I mean, I know it was a bad day. It was partially my fault anyway, so yeah. Things have been better today.”

Larry scoffs.

“I’m trying, Larry. Just open your fucking eyes and see that I’m trying to get better! Maybe if I had your support it’d be easier!”

Larry storms off to the kitchen, and Cynthia quickly follows him. Zoe looks at her brother, realizing that his breathing was erratic, and the anger that was once behind his eyes is now replaced with fear and worry.

“Connor, are you okay?” Zoe asks, but Connor can’t answer.

He shakes his head, and in an instant Zoe is by his side. She tries not to be offended when he flinches away.

“I’m not going to touch you until you want me to, but you need to breathe, okay? Try to breathe with me, please Connor,” She pleads, breathing in slowly and exhaling even slower. Connor takes a moment before he matches her breathing, slowly but surely feeling his head clear.

“Would you feel better if I rubbed your back?”

He nods.

Zoe rubs comforting circles against his back, biting her lip as she watches him carefully. She pretends like she can’t feel his spine under her touch. “He’s a dick.”

Connor only nods. It’s the first time Zoe wishes he had laughed at something like that, like he had been since they started talking again.

She figures he just needs to calm down.

—

Cynthia is hot on her husband’s heels as he walks out of the living room, the anger that Connor felt now bubbling up inside of her.

“You spend all day away from the house and you come home and that’s the first thing you say to our son? That he should’ve been punished for what he did yesterday?” She asks, Larry turning around to look at her.

“You never want to punish him, Cynthia. You always think that because of whatever is going on inside of him takes over his body he should just be excused from being punished. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?”

Cynthia takes a deep breath, her knuckles turning white as she grips the counter. “This whole time Connor has said that he doesn’t think you have any faith in him. That you can’t see that he’s trying. I defended you, told him that you cared and you wanted him to get better.” She stands up straighter, fixing her t-shirt. “Now I’m not so sure I should’ve gone to those lengths. Maybe he’s right.”

“You don’t actually think I don’t care, do you?”

Cynthia shakes her head, laughing bitterly. “If you do care, you have a shitty way of showing it.” She turns to walk towards the door, turning back to look at her husband. “If you really want him to get better, maybe stop blaming his bad days on him and try to understand what he’s going through. I think you’d think differently if you heard how he feels most days.”

“Our son wants to _die_ , Larry. Not wanted to die, but he wants to. Therapy and medication don’t magically make those feelings go away, not without time. And every night I worry that I’m going to wake up and find him dead in his room because he somehow found something in this house that would work. Something tells me you don’t fall asleep with the same fears as me.”

Larry is left alone and dumbfounded in the kitchen after the lecture.

Cynthia sleeps in the guest room that night, quietly crying herself to sleep.

She doesn’t think she’s ever had so much fear in her at once. All she can hope for is that somehow they figure this out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i am really laying it on with Larry in these chapters I PROMISE IT WON'T ALWAYS BE LIKE THIS. 
> 
> thank you for reading/leaving kudos/comments :)
> 
> feel free to come talk to me on tumblr! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> more on tuesday! have a safe new year!


	19. nineteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Evan comes to the Murphy's again, and Connor makes a new goal in his recovery.

Evan can’t remember when being at the Murphy’s felt so comfortable to him. Usually when Zoe would invite him over his anxiety would overtake him well into the afternoon, but now he almost looks forward to going there.

He thinks a lot of it has to do with the fact that Zoe seems happier when it comes to her brother. She had once been so scared, fearing that one day he really would go through with his threats of trying to kill her. Now the bad days always passed, and on the days Zoe would be scared of her brother would always resolve themselves. It was a small step, but one that meant a lot to Zoe, and in turn, Evan.

He hated to admit that he was a little fearful of going to the Murphy’s after school on Monday. Zoe had spent most of the day reassuring Evan that she and Connor had resolved things and everything was okay between them, but that alone doesn’t feel like enough. He doesn’t feel like he can say no though, and when jazz band is over and he’s wasted enough time trying to do his homework in the library he finds himself meeting up with Zoe as they walk out to her car.

The Murphy’s house is quiet, not that that’s any different than normal. Evan toes his shoes off next to Zoe’s at the front door, dropping his bag in the living room before they walk to the kitchen, Zoe glancing at the calendar.

“Connor's therapy was later than normal today, so they must not be home yet,” She shrugs, pulling out two glasses for them.

Evan nods, silently praying to himself that therapy went well and Connor doesn’t come home angry. He doesn’t think his anxiety could handle that, not in this moment.

“Did you want popcorn or something? My mom still has to go food shopping so we don’t have much, but she doesn’t want to leave Connor home alone yet so she only goes when me or my dad is here.” Evan doesn’t miss the roll of Zoe’s eyes. He thinks about asking if that was for his mom being protective of Connor or their dad never being home.

He doesn’t ask.

“Popcorn is fine,” He says quickly, taking his drink from her as she makes them food.

She’s in a good mood, which Evan desperately tries to match. He thinks he’s doing better at it when the front door opens and his breath gets caught in his throat.

“Oh, hi Evan!” Cynthia smiles when she walks into the kitchen, Connor trailing behind. Connor doesn’t say anything, but then again Evan thinks it’s probably better that way. “How was school?”

Cynthia is met with a chorus of ‘good’s’ from both Evan and Zoe, smiling at both of them. “Sorry we don’t have much food in the house, I’m going to go shopping tomorrow when your dad works from home in the afternoon,” She says as if they’re going to care, but Zoe just nods and thanks her quietly.

She and Evan slip into the living room without much more conversation, which Evan is grateful for. He doesn’t think he has the energy or strength to carry a conversation today, not even with Mrs. Murphy.

“How much homework do you have left?” Zoe asks, breaking Evan out of his trance. He looks up at her, finding concern on her face. “Are you okay?”

He nods quickly, laughing nervously as he wrings his hands together. “Just my anxiety is like…bad today?” He says, Zoe’s face softening as she nods. “I um, I took my meds this morning but um, I might take another?”

“You should.” Zoe doesn’t mean it maliciously. Evan nods, pulling his pills from his bag.

He pops one just as Connor walks into the room, and he doesn’t think he’s ever prayed so hard that his meds kicked in as fast as possible.

“Do you um, do you care if I just hang out here while you do homework? I promise I’ll be quiet, I won’t even turn on the TV if you don’t want me to,” Connor says, nervously standing in the doorway as he stares at the hair tie on his wrist. “I just, I don’t know if me being by myself right now is a good idea, and I can’t hang out with Mom anymore. She’s great, but —“

“But she’s Mom,” Zoe finishes his sentence. Connor nods, biting his lip.

Zoe glances at Evan, who just nods quickly. He doesn’t think it’d be right if he was the one who told Connor he didn’t want him around.

He also didn’t want to think about what Connor would do to him if he knew it was Evan that didn’t want him around.

“You can hang out. The TV can be on, we’re just going to be working on some homework and stuff for the organization,” She explains. Evan still can’t believe Connor knows about it.

He watches as Connor slumps into the chair away from the sofa, Zoe curling up against Evan as she pulls her laptop out. “I figured we could go through this stuff for a little since the first meeting is tomorrow, and then we can do homework?” She asks, Evan nodding.

Connor has the TV on quietly, but he’s not paying attention. He’s listening to the hushed whispers of his sister and her boyfriend talking about an organization that they made partly because of him, wondering if now would be a good time to talk about it. He isn’t sure it is.

“Maybe when I’m back at school I can help you guys with that stuff?” He says quietly, sitting up to look back at them. “Probably not much because well, I’m me, but like, maybe a little bit would help me and anyone else?”

Zoe notices the anxiousness in his demeanor and his voice that she hasn’t seen in a while. She smiles at him, surprised to see that it calms him down, if only slightly.

“If you feel up to it, then of course you can help,” She says, which Connor nods to.

She doesn’t know if he’s being serious or not. She’s not sure that he’s going to help when he’s back at school, or if he’ll even feel the same way about helping the following morning if she were to bring it up.

But even his initiation to say he’d help is a step in the right direction for him, and Zoe is thankful that they’ve gotten to this point after the few months they had been through.

—

Connor doesn’t hate going to therapy.

It shocks him as much as it shocks everyone else who knows he’s going, but he’s not going to dispute it.

Being in Dr. James’ office has gotten easier for Connor each passing day, and now, just over a month since his last suicide attempt, he knows how to work through the sessions like he knows the back of his hand.

He isn’t afraid to cry in front of Dr. James, which alone is a feat he didn’t think he’d get to. Dr. James seemed to understand him, was patient through his bad days and the conversations that Connor found difficult to have, and he never seemed to judge Connor for anything he’s done or resorted to when he was unmedicated.

It’s everything he had wanted in a therapist when he was 13, but had never received. It feels nice.

Connor doesn’t know how he feels when he walks into Dr. James’ office that afternoon. It doesn’t feel like a bad day, at least not in his mind. He chalks it up to the weather, gloomy and cold, as to why he doesn’t feel like things are okay today. He’s not sure that’s the right coping mechanism.

“I’m going to start this open-ended today. Is there anything you want to talk about? Anything you feel like you need to get off your chest?” Dr. James asks, looking over the mood chart that Connor fills out daily. He’s even impressed himself with the fact that he’s somehow managed to do it almost every day. “You colored in Saturday blue, and a few days last week blue or yellow. Did you want to talk about why those days weren’t as good as some of the others?”

Connor takes a deep breath. He didn’t really _want_ to talk about anything. But he doesn’t think he’ll make it out of the therapy session by just sitting there and giving Dr. James yes or no answers. He fiddles with the ring on his finger, sighing.

“Saturday was a really bad day,” He begins, his eyes falling to stare at his lap. “I just woke up and felt like the world was weighing down on me. I felt like someone was sitting on my chest most of the day, like even breathing took all of my effort. I didn’t want to get out of bed.”

Dr. James nods, writing a few things down on his notepad. “That’s normal, Connor. The medication is not 100% foolproof, there will be bad times with it.”

Connor nods, but he doesn’t think that really helped at all. “My mom made me take my meds and eat a little bit, but she didn’t force me to get out of bed. She probably should have, but I’m not sure I would’ve listened anyway.” He watches Dr. James nod. “I finally forced myself to get up around dinner. At least to wash my face and pull my hair up out of my face. I um, I saw my sister’s door was open, and so I thought maybe if I spent a few minutes with her it would help me feel a little better. I don’t know, but I definitely shouldn’t have done that.”

“Did something happen between you and your sister, Connor?” Dr. James asks. His voice isn’t accusing at all, but Connor still feels like he’s going to break down.

“I asked her what she was doing because she was on her laptop. She told me that she and her boyfriend and some of their friends had started this um, this organization? They started at school, where they want to help kids who may feel like they’re alone or felt…I guess felt like I did and still do?”

Connor takes a deep breath, snapping his hair tie against his wrist. He’s thankful Dr. James doesn’t tell him to stop. “It was already an awful day, and I told myself that she didn’t care for almost 4 years of my struggles, but now suddenly she wanted to help everyone who feels like me. I freaked out, throwing things, yelling at her. She got scared and ran to her boyfriend’s, and I went back to my room and threw things of my own.”

Connor sucks in his bottom lip, the silence deafening in the room. He wishes Dr. James would say something. “I um, I really wanted to…to hurt myself that night.”

“And did you?”

Connor shakes his head. “I scratched my skin and around my scars until there was a little blood but…I couldn’t find anything else. My parents um, my parents hid everything from me.”

One tear falls, followed quickly by many more tears. He hadn’t told anyone he wanted to hurt himself that night. He didn’t think he’d ever tell anyone. But it had just come from his lips without a second thought and Connor felt like he could throw up.

"Is this the first time you’ve wanted to hurt yourself since you’ve been home from the hospital?”

Another deep breath. Another shake of his head. “I’ve wanted to a few times.”

“Have you told anyone?”

“No,” Connor whispers, squeezing his eyes shut as more tears fall. He doesn’t think he’s going to be able to stop them. “My mom is just so worried all of the time. I was afraid if I told her she’d just worry more, and I didn’t want that for her.”

Dr. James sighs, but Connor doesn’t think he sounds disappointed. “Connor, she is concerned for a reason. You have been through a lot, and as your mother she’s had to watch it all. But you cannot bottle these feelings up. For the next week I want you to focus on telling someone in your family that you feel like you want to hurt yourself when the feeling comes. It doesn’t have to be your mom. It can be your dad, or if you feel like your sister may understand, you can tell her. But you cannot bottle these feelings up.”

Connor nods, wiping away the tears with the back of his hand.

“Now, with the organization that your sister started, how do you feel about it now?”

Connor takes a shaky breath, shrugging. “I think it’s a good idea. Zoe’s always um…she’s always wanted to help people. And I know that she and her friends really only want to help. I mean, I don’t totally agree with it because of everything I’ve been through and how no one cared, but I get it.”

There's a pause, and Connor forces himself to look up at Dr. James. “I told her and her boyfriend that maybe when I got back to school I would help a little bit. Probably not much, but at least a little,” Connor says.

He notices Dr. James light up.

“I think that’s an excellent idea, Connor. I think even you being a part of it in the slightest of ways will do wonders for you,” He says, and for a moment Connor feels hopeful.

“I wanted to talk to you about school, but I wanted to include your mom. Would you mind if she came in and joined us for the last part of your session today? We’re only going to talk about school,” He asks, and Connor nods, watching Dr. James walk to the door and return a few minutes later with Cynthia trailing behind.

Connor figures Dr. James told her about Connor being upset about things they talked about beforehand, because she gave him a soft smile and sat down beside him, rubbing his back.

He leans into it for the first time in a long time.

“Connor had brought up the subject of school, and I was planning to talk to you today about it, anyway, but felt that it would be important to include you in the discussion,” Dr. James begins, sitting back down in his own chair. “Based on how Connor has been doing in his sessions and how the medication seems to be working for him, I think it’s time we start integrating him back into school.”

Cynthia lights up at that, nodding. “Is there a timeframe for when that would happen?”

Connor leans back against the back of the sofa, scrubbing at his eyes. They suddenly feel heavy, and all he wants is for this to end.

“I think aiming for after Thanksgiving break is a good goal for now. That gives Connor a few weeks to catch up on some schoolwork that he’s missed being out with a tutor, and I’ll work with his school and the counselors there to ensure that he’s ready to go when he starts up again.”

“Connor, honey, how do you feel about that?” Cynthia asks, turning towards her son. He shrugs, biting his lip.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to feel okay with it, but I need to go back, right?” He says, looking between both Cynthia and Dr. James.

“It’s normal to feel nervous about something like this, Connor. I wouldn’t expect you to be ready to just jump back in, but you’re right, it has to happen,” Dr. James says, writing a few more things down before looking up. “We have a few weeks to build back up to it, and I chose after Thanksgiving because then you’ll have a few weeks of school before Christmas break to ease back in. I know your school will work with you on making sure you feel comfortable as well. Do you think that’s an obtainable goal for you?”

Connor’s silent for a moment before he nods. “I think so,” He whispers, more trying to convince himself than anyone else.

School is now a goal in his life, and one that he didn’t think he’d ever reach when he woke up in the hospital a month ago.

He follows Cynthia back out to the car, sinking into the passenger seat and rubbing his eyes. He wonders if they’ll ever stop hurting when he’s done crying.

“School is a huge step, Connor. I know you’re nervous about it, but I think this will be good for you,” Cynthia says, looking over at her son and smiling.

Connor knows she’s trying to be comforting. He hates that it’s not working.

So instead he just nods, mumbling something about how he knows it will. He doesn’t think she understands him, but she doesn’t press him.

He spends the car ride home worrying about how school was going to go when he finally returned. None of the outcomes in his mind end up being positive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the reads/comments/kudos as always! i love reading/responding to them :)
> 
> you can follow me/talk to me on tumblr if you'd like! for-f0rever.tumblr.com 
> 
> more on Friday! :)


	20. twenty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Zoe goes to therapy with Connor, and Connor worries about the next steps

The weeks go by without much of a thought to anyone, and Connor can’t say that he’s not thankful for that. He started tutoring sessions at home with a teacher from his school named Lila, who’s young and nice and doesn’t seem to get upset when Connor’s having a bad day and barely completes any work. He knows she probably shouldn’t be enabling him to slack off some days, but it’s nice. It feels normal.

Therapy had been going well, and now with his date to go back to school was right around the corner, he felt like he had a lot to talk about. His anxiety and depression were getting worse, and the bad days that became less frequent also seemed to be coming back. He had asked his mom about being homeschooled for the rest of his senior year, hiding away with Lila teaching him, but she always said that that wasn’t an option.

It usually made him angrier than he thought it would.

Dr. James suggests bringing Zoe to one of his last therapy sessions before he goes back to school, not surprised when he’s met with resistance from Connor. Sure, things had been going well between the two of them and the fighting had become a lot less frequent, but it didn’t mean he wanted his sister at his therapy session.

Cynthia thinks it’s a great idea, and so reluctantly Connor allows it, the two of them picking Zoe up early from school and making their way to Dr. James’ office.

“If you want me to leave the room or whatever, I’ll leave. Just maybe try to give it a chance?” Zoe asks from the back seat, her hand resting on Connor’s shoulder.

He shrugs it off, his head leaning against the window. “Shut up, Zoe.”

Cynthia gives him a look, frowning as Connor mutters some sort of apology.

Zoe knows not to take it personally.

Dr. James’ office is small, Zoe finds. There’s some generic paintings on the wall and the standard magazine rack in the corner. There’s only a few other people in the waiting room, and she sinks into a seat next to her mom while Connor lets the receptionist know he’s there. He sits on the other side of Cynthia, but Zoe can’t say she’s surprised. 

He didn’t really seem happy with her.

Connor’s name is called, and Zoe looks to the door where Dr. James is standing, Connor walking towards him. He turns around, looking at his sister before staring at his shoes. “Are you coming or no?” He asks, and in an instant Zoe stands up, following her brother into the room.

“You must be Zoe. I’m Dr. James, I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to finally meet you in person,” He says, sticking his hand out for her to shake. She obliges, and tries not to notice that her brother is beat red slumped on the sofa when he hears Dr. James say that they discuss her.

“Connor, I thought we would talk about school first, and then depending on how you feel after that Zoe can either leave the room and we’ll talk alone, or we can talk about your relationship with each other over the last few months. Does that sound okay?” He asks, and Connor just shrugs, nodding.

Zoe acts like he doesn’t move away when she sits on the opposite side of the sofa.

“So, in a few days you’re going to go back to school. How are you feeling about that?” Dr. James asks, Zoe glancing towards Connor.

Connor shrugs. He doesn’t have an answer because he doesn’t know how he feels. He hasn’t been able to wrap his mind around what’s going on in a few days. “I don’t know,” He finally says, snapping his hair tie against his wrist.

Zoe cringes.

“I’m not excited about it,” Connor says after a pause, rubbing at his wrist where he had been snapping his hair tie. “I know people are going to say things about me, I know they’re going to whisper and talk about how I tried to kill myself but it didn’t work. I’m not dumb,” He says, glancing up at Dr. James. “But I also don’t think that’s ever not going to be a thing. I’ve always been a freak in school, why would that change now?”

Zoe frowns at her brother’s words, but notices that Dr. James doesn’t feel phased by anything Connor has said. “How often do you see Zoe in school?”

Connor shrugs. He's never paid attention. 

He never thought it would matter.

“We have the same lunch, and I have some classes near him throughout the day. I guess I would see him fairly often?” Zoe steps in, Dr. James nodding.

The room is quiet, and Zoe immediately realizes what Connor means when he says there are awkward moments of therapy. She feels bad for him, glancing over to see him still fiddling with his hair tie.

She figures it’s a habit.

“Maybe checking in with Zoe throughout the day would help you, Connor. Even if it’s just to talk to her for a minute or two.”

Connor laughs at that, shifting in his spot. “And have people think that I need my sister to save me?” He asks, looking back at Dr. James.

Zoe’s eyes stay focused on her brother, truly fearing him for the first time in weeks. She tells herself this is his defense mechanism, that he’s projecting his worries about going back to school on his therapist.

She doesn’t understand how Dr. James can have so much patience.

“Connor, you reaching out to your sister periodically throughout the day is not her saving you. This is about your mental health, about keeping you in a mindset where things are positive for you. Your parents are not going to be at school with you, but your sister will be. Often times having one familiar person there is enough to help you get through school days.”

Connor takes a deep breath, twisting his hair tie around his wrist. “Okay,” He says quietly.

He pretends like he doesn’t see Zoe light up beside him.

Dr. James smiles, writing a few things down. “By no means is this going to be easy, Connor. You walking back into that school is a huge step in your recovery, but you cannot get through this alone, and no one is expecting you to. All I’m asking is that you let Zoe in while you’re at school and ask her for help if you need it so she can help or find the help that you need. Do you think that’s an obtainable goal for next week?” Dr. James asks, and Connor nods.

Somehow that seemed like a victory in Zoe’s mind.

“Connor, did you want to talk about your relationship with Zoe, or would you rather have her leave the room and we can talk about other things,” Dr. James asks, watching Connor’s reaction.

“I want to talk with Zoe,” Connor finally answers, and Zoe sits up a little straighter.

Dr. James nods, writing a few things down before looking back up at the siblings. “Zoe, before we go any further, can you just give me a rundown on yours and Connor’s relationship? I’ve heard some from him, but it would be nice to hear your perspective as well.”

Zoe nods, picking at a hangnail on her finger as she tries to figure out where to begin. “When we were little we were inseparable. I mean, he’s only a year older than me,” She laughs, glancing at Connor before looking back at her lap. “I wanted to be just like him most of the time, do everything with him, hang out with his friends. Obviously that changed as we got a little older, but I always got along with him. We always hung out and stuff.”

“Things started to change when we were teenagers. Connor um, Connor’s mental health began to suffer, and our parents didn’t seem to notice…or maybe they didn’t care at first. We started fighting a lot more, he would tell me he hated me and push me away any time I would try to see if he was okay or if he wanted someone to talk to. Eventually when he would threaten to kill me I decided that I couldn’t keep putting myself through that, and so I shut him out. I called him a freak, told him I hated that he was my brother, and that was that.”

Silence fills the room, and Zoe blinks as tears fall. She hates this, hates that this is what it’s come to. 

“Was it easy for you to push him away?”

“No,” Zoe laughs, rubbing at her eyes. She thanks Dr. James quietly when he extends a tissue box. “I love him, you know? I never stopped loving him, I don’t think. Sure, he was awful to me and there were times where I feared for my safety, but I could tell he was just hurting. I just couldn’t give him what he needed, and so instead I decided that pushing him away and telling him that I hated him was the best thing. Which it obviously wasn’t.”

Connor looks over at her, trying to smile. Zoe notices he’s been crying, too, and she wonders how much of this was everything he needed to hear. 

“How do you think things are now?” Dr. James asks, and for a moment, Zoe is stunned. She should’ve seen the question coming, but in the moment it catches her off guard. 

She wonders if there’s a right answer.

Taking a deep breath, Zoe lets herself smile. “Things have been better,” She says, wondering how confident she sounds to Dr. James. “I can tell Connor is trying so much more than he had been before? I can tell he’s trying to work on things with you, and he’s taking his meds every day and rarely puts up a fight when our mom gives them to him. Obviously things aren’t always great, there’s bad days and the old Connor shines through, but I don’t think he means it. I really do think he’s trying this time, and as long as he’s putting in the effort to get better and not lash out at me, I’m going to be his biggest fan, cheering him on throughout the whole recovery process.”

There’s a moment where she pauses, her eyes fixed on her brother. “I can’t lose him again. I don’t want to lose him again,” She whispers, biting her lip.

Zoe reaches over, rubbing her hand gently against Connor’s arm, smiling when he looks at her.

He takes her hand, and for a moment, through all the chaos and ups and downs of their lives since everything had happened, Zoe feels like everything is okay.

—

Zoe decides not to talk about how she went to therapy with Connor that day. Evan already knew but didn’t press her to talk about it, figuring that if she wanted to say anything she would bring it up when they’re alone.

Zoe just figures she’s shed enough tears that afternoon without having to rehash the therapy session to her boyfriend.

She invites Alana, Jared and Evan over after they’re home and Connor is upstairs in his room taking a nap, feeling the need to be around people. Cynthia orders pizza for them, sending them down to the basement where they can be louder without having to worry about Connor waking up or being in a bad mood around them.

“So,” Zoe begins, taking a moment to swallow the bite of pizza in her mouth. “I was thinking about how Thanksgiving is in a few days, and maybe on Friday we could have a Friendsgiving at my house? I’ve already talked to my mom about it and she’s totally on board, she thinks it sounds like a really good idea,” Zoe smiles, looking between her three friends.

“I think that sounds amazing, Zoe!” Alana exclaims, sitting further up in the chair. “We could all bring something to make it easier for you, and just have a nice Friendsgiving with food and movies on Friday night,” She says, and both boys seem to be on board.

Silence fills the room for a moment, and Zoe looks back to her friends, wondering why she’s so worried about what she’s about to ask.

“So, since I’m going to have you guys here to hang out and everything, would any of you mind if Connor is there?” She asks, all three of them shaking their heads immediately. “It’s just that…he and I have been working super hard on our relationship, and so I figured maybe if I invited him to come hang out with us he’d want to or he’d like, put more effort into it? He’s starting school again next week so maybe if he knew you guys he’d feel a little better about it.”

Jared shrugs, looking at Evan and Alana before speaking up. “Look, I don’t think it’s a secret that I was a dick to Connor. But if he’s willing to give me a second chance, I’m more than willing to do the same for him. It’d be cool if he came.”

Zoe laughs, nodding. “I think he’ll be willing to give you a second chance,” She nods, and for a moment she believes herself.

All she can think about is Connor maybe hanging out with her and her friends, although she tries not to get her hopes up.

She just wants her brother to feel like he’s not alone, even if it means letting someone other than his family in.

—

There are nights where Cynthia finds it impossible to sleep. Nights where she feels like her brain can’t stop thinking about Connor or Zoe and if she’s doing things right for both of them. Nights where she worries that if she closes her eyes and lets herself relax, Connor will slip away again.

When she realizes that sleep is never going to come she quietly gets out of bed, making her way downstairs to make herself some tea. She stops by both Connor and Zoe’s rooms, relieved to see that they’re both asleep.

She quietly moves around the kitchen, making herself tea and busying herself cleaning up the dishes that were left in the sink. The clock reads 2:43 back at her, but she doesn’t think sleep is going to come, at least not within the next few hours.

She’s startled to hear the footsteps on the steps, turning to see Zoe walking down, loosely pulling her hair into a ponytail. “What are you doing up, baby?” Cynthia smiles, watching Zoe sink into a seat at the island.

“Couldn’t fall back to sleep. And I heard someone down here and figured I’d come see who it was,” She says quietly, watching her mom pull out another mug for her to make tea.

There’s a small moment where it’s quiet between the two of them, but it’s comfortable. Cynthia doesn’t feel like she has to say anything to her daughter, and Zoe doesn’t have anything to say to her mother. Just the company is enough.

“You going to therapy really helped your brother, Zoe,” Cynthia says quietly, handing Zoe her warm mug. “I know we didn’t really have a lot of time to talk about it before your friends came over, but Connor seemed relieved when he walked out of that office with you. I haven’t seen him look like that leaving Dr. James’ office at all since he’s been going there.”

Zoe nods, unsure of what to say. She didn’t feel like the therapy session helped Connor at all, at least not from what she could tell. “I just want to help him, and I think he’s starting to see that. All the times he pushed me away and I came right back, I think he gets it. I don’t know, maybe me going was what he needed to see that if Dad isn’t going to be there, you and I will be.”

Cynthia nods, although she can’t help but worry about her husband and how reluctant he is to support Connor. “You know, you and your friends starting the organization is a really good thing, Zoe. Connor will come around to it more than he has, and I think he’ll be able to see that you just want to help people.”

“Somehow this will all feel okay again, but for now, we’re just going to have to support each other the best that we can,” Cynthia says, leaning forward and kissing her daughter’s head.

They finish their tea in virtual silence, and reluctantly Zoe announces that she’s going to try to sleep again. “Night, Zoe. I love you,” Cynthia smiles, letting her daughter hug her.

“I love you too,” She smiles, disappearing back upstairs.

Cynthia takes her time putting their mugs in the dishwasher and cleaning everything up, quietly climbing the steps again.

She stops by Connor’s doorway, lingering for just a moment. There was a period of time where she worried that she wouldn’t see an image like this again. Where she wouldn’t look into her son’s bedroom and see him asleep, alive and getting better.

It’s the best feeling in the world. 

“Mom?” Connor’s voice cuts through the quiet of the room, Cynthia carefully stepping into the room, able to see him better.

“Did I wake you up, sweetheart? I’m sorry.”

Connor just shakes his head, moving slightly when Cynthia sits down on the edge of his bed. “Just noticed you there when I rolled over,” He mumbles, pushing his hand lazily through his hair. 

“Shh, just go back to sleep, okay?” She whispers, Connor nodding as he sighs, yawning.

“Do you think um…do you think school will be okay?” He asks, and for a moment Cynthia is stunned. She hardly felt like almost 3 in the morning was the appropriate time to talk about this, but right now Connor wanted to talk about it, and she wasn’t going to tell him to wait.

She takes a deep breath, rubbing Connor’s arm in a way she hoped was comforting. “I think it’s a huge step in your recovery. I don’t want to promise you that it’ll be okay, that it’ll be easy and you’ll feel better being there, because we don’t know that,” She says, surprised when Connor nods.

“But I do think that you going back is a huge step, and one that I’m going to support you with every single day. We’ll take things one day at a time, we’ll work on your recovery and how you’re feeling, and somehow it’ll be okay. I promise you, I’m not letting you suffer through this alone.”

“Okay,” Connor whispers, and for a moment Cynthia believes that everything is going to work out.

She waits until Connor falls back to sleep, taking a moment to look at his features and take them all in, silently thanking God that she still has moments like these. That her little boy is still alive and in recovery, and their lives are finally starting to take a turn in the right direction.

It’s a small victory they all needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading/commenting/leaving kudos as always :)
> 
> feel free to talk to me if you want on tumblr! for-f0rever.tumblr.com
> 
> more on tuesday! :)


	21. twenty one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Thanksgiving happens and Connor meets Zoe's friends

Zoe remembers a time not too long ago where walking anywhere near Connor’s room made her worry that he was going to jump out and kill her. The times where she feared going anywhere near him, his uncontrollable and at times unpredictable rage forcing her to put her guard up.

Now she walks down the hallway and doesn’t fear her, and it’s just…it’s nice.

She likes having some form of relationship with him again.

“Hey, Con?” Zoe asks, standing in her brother’s doorway. Connor had been sat on his bed with a notepad on his lap, obviously doodling.

Zoe wonders if he’s supposed to be doing his homework.

He looks up from his notebook, and Zoe swears she sees half a smile. It’s been a long day, therapy and hours of avoiding Larry for Connor, but it doesn’t seem like he’s in a bad mood.

“Did your friends leave?” Connor asks, which makes Zoe frown.

“Yeah, they did,” She says, leaning against the doorframe. “You could’ve hung out with us, you know. You’re always welcome to come hang out with us if you know that they’re here.”

Connor shrugs, shifting on the bed. “You definitely don’t want me there, you don’t have to be nice,” He says, giving her a half smile. “I know…this is getting better. But it’s not like it was. I still have outbursts. I don’t want to scare your friends away.”

Zoe bites her lip, wondering how she’s going to ask what she came up to ask him. “Well, um, this is going to be awkward now,” She laughs, awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck. “I was coming up to ask you if you wanted to hang out with us on Friday. They’re coming over for Friendsgiving, and I thought maybe you’d want to hang out with us? If you don’t want to you don’t have to,” She says, staring at her mismatched socks.

Connor’s silent for a moment, which usually worries Zoe. It usually means he’s going to yell at her, freak out, or have a panic attack. 

She isn’t sure which she’d prefer right now.

“Are you sure?” Connor asks, sounding so unsure that it worries Zoe almost as much. She looks up at him, biting her lip.

“Of course,” She says, as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “I know our relationship isn’t the best and you and I have our moments where we slip back into our old habits, but I want you to feel like you’re not alone in this,” She takes a deep breath, stepping into his room and resting her hand against his desk. “You’re starting school next week and you deserve to know people at school other than Evan and me.”

Connor nods, moving his legs closer to him. Zoe takes it as an invitation to sit down.

“Not sure how I feel about Jared Fucking Kleinman being in our house, though,” He says, making Zoe laugh. “He’s a dick, Zo. I’m not sure how you deal with him.”

Zoe rolls her eyes, folding her hands in her lap. “He’s not that bad. You just need to give him a chance. He said he’s willing to give you one.”

Connor only shrugs. It feels like enough.

Zoe stands up from the bed, patting Connor’s leg awkwardly. “Mom said dinner will be ready soon. I’m going to go shower,” She tells him as if he cares.

He nods anyway, and as Zoe’s walking out of the room she swears she hears him mumble a thank you.

Progress.

—

Connor can think of about a million things he’d rather do than spend time with their extended family on Thanksgiving, and that’s including hanging out with Zoe’s friends willingly.

That’s saying something.

Cynthia had offered to host Thanksgiving, which really shouldn’t have been as big of a deal as it was. Larry was apprehensive, worried that if they hosted it would just let their extended family get a glimpse of the chaos of their lives since Connor had returned home from the hospital just over a month ago.

Zoe just wishes they had pretended like Thanksgiving didn’t exist and they skipped it.

Connor feels suffocated by the dress shirt Cynthia insists he wears. He’s constantly grabbing at the buttoned sleeves, desperately trying to hide his scars.

“They’re never going to peek out from that shirt,” Zoe mumbles, fixing her hair in the bathroom mirror when Connor walks in. “Stop picking at the sleeves otherwise people will notice. And Mom’s family is batshit crazy, you know they'll ask why you keep doing it.”

Connor laughs at that, pulling his toothbrush from the holder and brushing his teeth. “How long do you think I’ll last before I sneak upstairs?”

Zoe gives him a look, but ends up smiling in the end. “Mom and Dad will be annoyed if you do.”

Connor shrugs. “They’ll be annoyed if I don’t interact with anyone, too,” He says, running his fingers through his hair. “Look, this isn’t going to be easy for me. I’m not going to have the greatest time today, let’s be honest.”

Zoe can’t argue with that, and so instead the two make their way downstairs, family arriving not long after.

Connor makes it to dinner, which surprises Zoe almost as much as it seems to surprise Cynthia. He takes his seat in between Zoe and his mom, taking a little bit of food onto his plate. Zoe smiles at him, surprised at the effort he seems to be going to to show that this is going to work.

“That’s all you want, Connor?” His Uncle John asks, Connor’s shoulders falling as he shrugs.

“This is fine,” He mumbles, refusing to look up.

“You’ve barely taken any food, Connor, come on! There’s plenty to go around.”

“He’s fine, John,” Cynthia steps in, reaching under the table to squeeze Connor’s knee comfortingly.

He just takes a deep breath.

Connor eats most of his dinner, ignoring the constant encouragement from his family to finish what’s on his plate as he takes it to the kitchen. “Why don’t you go with Zoe and sit in the living room. I promise they’ll leave soon, you’ve almost made it,” Cynthia tries to encourage, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

Connor turns without saying anything, trailing behind Zoe out to the living room.

He stays silent through most of the conversation, picking at his sleeves. Zoe rests her hand against Connor’s arm, smiling at him when he looks up.

“So, Connor, have you gone back to school yet?” His aunt asks, Connor shaking his head.

“I start this week.”

“It’s so nice to see you doing so well, sweetheart.”

Connor shrugs, mumbling some sort of thank you.

“Of course if he would just stop picking at his sleeves it would be much better,” His uncle Nick remarks, and without saying anything Connor stands up, making his way upstairs after mumbling something about needing to go get something.

Zoe smiles awkwardly at her extended family, giving Connor a minute before she excuses herself from the room, running into her parents.

“He was playing with his sleeves, Uncle Nick made some remark about it and he got up and left. They were kind of interrogating him, I don’t know. He couldn’t hide away like he wanted to,” She says before they ask, Cynthia’s face falling.

Larry looks back into the other room before back to his wife and daughter, making a move to go upstairs. “Dad, I’ll go talk to him,” She says before Larry can move, and reluctantly her parents let her go.

Zoe really isn’t surprised to see Connor pacing his room, the dress shirt now off in favor of his normal hoodie. He’s scratching violently at his arms, murmuring something under his breath.

“Connor, are you okay?” Zoe asks, which is ridiculous. She knows he isn’t. “Hey, Con, breathe.”

Connor’s head snaps to look at her, but he manages to take a deep breath. “I can’t do this, Zoe,” He says, quickly shaking his head. “I can’t go back down there. I need…I need weed. I need to fucking smoke.”

Zoe notices the blood, and in a moment without thinking about Connor potentially hurting her, Zoe reaches out for his wrist. “You can’t keep scratching at your scars, Con. Breathe,” She says calmly, surprised when Connor’s arm goes limp in hers, taking deep breaths with her.

“You haven’t said you needed weed in weeks. Is this that bad?”

Connor laughs at that, nodding as he sits down on his bed. Zoe follows. “I just haven’t said it out loud. That’s the hardest part of all of this, you know,” He says quietly, still trying to scratch at his arm. Zoe stops him. “All I can think about is how much easier this would be if I had weed.”

Zoe frowns, unsure of what to say. “I’m going to go get a towel to wipe off these cuts you reopened. I know you won’t leave, but like, maybe just sit here and breathe?” She says, Connor giving her a half smile as he nods.

Zoe goes into the bathroom and grabs a clean washcloth and the Neosporin, walking back into Connor’s room. She frowns when she finds him scratching at his arm again, walking over and taking it back to rest in front of her.

Biting her lip she carefully washes away the blood, stopping the small bleeding from a few of the cuts before rubbing Neosporin on all of them. She pats Connor’s hand when she’s finished, and he thanks her quietly.

“I should probably go back downstairs with everyone,” She says, looking at her brother. “Will you be okay alone? You’re not going to like, sneak out to buy weed or start throwing things, right?”

“Zoe,” Connor says, but it’s not in an accusing tone.

Zoe smiles, nodding. “Right. I know you won’t.” Standing up from the bed Zoe stands in front of her brother, sighing. “Text me if you need me? Just try to get some sleep,” She tells him, feeling the most useless person in the world in that moment.

Connor nods anyway, moving back to lay in his bed.

Zoe watches him for a moment before she leaves to go back downstairs, Cynthia lingering in the kitchen. “He’s okay, I think,” Zoe says, not surprised when relief washes over her mother. “He was scratching at his arms and reopened a few of his scars but I cleaned them and put Neosporin and told him to get some sleep. He can’t come back down here, he’s not in the right frame of mind.”

Cynthia exhales, nodding slowly. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll check on him after dessert.”

Zoe’s mind doesn’t stop thinking about Connor for the rest of the night, and she doesn’t feel herself relax until Cynthia comes back downstairs almost 2 hours after their guests had left, reassuring Zoe that Connor is fine, he just didn’t want to be alone.

It’s not exactly how she envisioned Thanksgiving to go, but everyone was going to be okay, and that’s what she’s going to focus on.

—

Evan offers to come over early and help set up for their Friendsgiving, which Zoe appreciates more than she thinks Evan realizes. Cynthia seemed happy to see him, smiling at him when he walks into the kitchen.

“It’s so nice that you guys are able to do this,” She smiles, putting some sides into the oven. “Did you have a nice Thanksgiving, Evan?”

Evan nods quickly, fiddling with the hem of his sweatshirt. “We um, we didn’t really do anything? My mom um, my mom offered to work the night shift after dinner so um, so she left after we ate? And I just watched movies,” He shrugs, Cynthia frowning.

“You were more than welcome over here, Evan. If that happens again you’re always welcome here,” She encourages, and although Evan doesn’t think he’ll ever take her up on that offer, he thanks her anyway.

“Is Dad coming home early today?” Zoe asks, breaking the awkward silence in the room. “I still don't understand why he had to go into the office the day after Thanksgiving.”

Cynthia sighs. Evan watches carefully, but he can tell that Zoe’s not asking a real question.

He knows she knows why her dad left the house that morning for work.

“I don’t know when he’ll be home,” Cynthia says shortly, busying herself and cleaning up some of the ingredients she had been using. “But it doesn’t matter, Zoe. Your friends are going to be here soon, you’re going to have a really fun night, and Dad will come home when he’s done work,” She explains, leaving a kiss on Zoe’s head as she leaves the room.

“Sorry,” Zoe whispers, walking over to where Evan is standing, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She leans up to kiss him, and for a moment everything feels okay. “You shouldn’t have to be in the middle of all of this. Today is a good day!” She smiles, Evan smiling as he kisses her again.

“Look, I said I was cool with you dating or whatever, but if you’re going to make out can you at least not do it in the kitchen when you’re not the only ones home?” Zoe and Evan pull apart to find Connor in the kitchen with them, oversized sweatshirt on as he makes himself some toast.

Evan doesn’t think he could be any more red than he is, fiddling with his jeans when he pulls back from Zoe.

"I didn’t think you were going to get up,” Zoe smiles, leaning back against the counter. She smiles in Evan’s direction, trying to calm him down.

It doesn’t work.

“Yeah well, depression isn’t going to win today,” He shrugs. “And Mom said I have to eat something to take my meds. Can’t forget those.”

It’s oddly optimistic, Evan thinks. 

There’s silence in the kitchen, Evan busying himself by helping Zoe with the plates and things to take downstairs. “I have to go ask Mom something and get changed before they get here, I’ll be right back,” Zoe announces, leaning forward to kiss Evan’s cheek before turning to her brother.

“Be nice,” She whispers, patting his chest before walking out and towards the stairs.

Evan can’t help but be nervous.

“So,” Connor begins, buttering his toast meticulously without looking at Evan. “I figured if you’re going to be dating my sister, and if Zoe and I are going to keep getting along the way we are, maybe it’d be good to get to know you.”

Evan nods quickly, realizing that Connor couldn’t see him. “O-okay,” He finally says quietly, avoiding making eye contact when Connor walks around him to sit down at the island.

“So, do you have any siblings?”

Evan shakes his head. “It’s just me and my mom? My dad um, my dad left when I was 7. I uh, I don’t see him anymore. Or talk to him really. I mean he has kids with his new wife, but I’ve never met them,” Evan shrugs, suddenly feeling insanely uncomfortable.

Connor doesn’t seem phased, nodding as he takes a bite of his toast. “That sucks, man. I’m sorry.”

Evan just nods, biting his lip. “We’re probably better off,” He mumbles, which Connor thinks may be the most honest thing the kid ever said.

There’s a brief silence, and Connor doesn’t try to fill it. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say when he’s getting to know someone better.

“About your um…your anxiety and depression?” Evan says, squeezing his eyes shut. He wishes he hadn’t brought it up. “I uh, I kind of get it? I mean, I think it’s pretty obvious I have the worst anxiety ever.”

Connor laughs at that, nodding. Evan relaxes slightly.

“This might be weird but if you ever wanted to talk to someone about how you’re feeling I’m just saying I’d understand. There’s a lot that um, there’s a lot that I hide? And a lot that I um, that I haven’t even told Zoe. But you need someone and if I um, if I can help you or whatever you can let me know.”

Nothing ever feels comfortable. But Connor nods.

“Thanks,” He whispers, biting the inside of his lip as he stares at the last few bites of his toast. “Zoe and my mom are great, and sometimes I think my dad is…trying. But maybe it’d be nice to have someone who gets it, you know? They don’t get it, but maybe you do.”

Evan nods, giving Connor a smile.

Maybe this is the turn they both needed.

—

Alana and Jared arrive together, and together the four of them go downstairs and set the rest of the food out that they brought. “Everything looks so good, Zoe. Thank you so much for having us!” Alana smiles, sliding into her seat next to Jared and Evan.

All four of them hear footsteps coming downstairs, but no one is more surprised to see that it’s Connor than Zoe.

He’s carrying a tray that Cynthia had obviously given him, trying to smile at the group now that all eyes are on him.

Zoe can tell he feels crazily uncomfortable.

She stands up, smiling at him as she takes the tray of vegetables. “Did you want to stay?” She asks, noticing the apprehension on his face. “Look, you can go right back upstairs the second you feel overwhelmed, I promise. Just maybe try to stay and get to know them a little?” She asks, Connor taking a deep breath.

He nods, following her down the stairs and sinking into the chair beside her, trying to smile at her friends.

“Sorry, this is probably so awkward and you guys probably didn’t think I was going to be here or whatever,” Connor mumbles, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt.

Zoe knows he’s worried about his scars.

“It’s okay, Connor. It’s nice to see you! Or, well, meet you? I mean we have science together but I don’t really think you know that or even really cared,” Alana shrugs, suddenly uncomfortable with everything she had just blurted out at the poor kid.

She relaxes when Connor gives her a small smile. “I did notice. You’re like, insanely good at science, right?” He asks, watching Alana get slightly nervous as she nods. “Good, when I’m back in school next week you can help me, because I’m probably going to be so lost. Tutoring isn’t going to save my science skills.”

Alana lights up at that, nodding quickly.

Zoe relaxes next to her brother, handing him some food to put on his plate. She’s thankful when none of her friends stare at him or make comments when he barely eats anything.

They talk about school, and Connor joins into the conversation when he feels like he has something to say. He doesn’t stop fiddling with his sleeves despite Zoe’s attempts to get him to stop, but she thinks that’s fine.

Connor is hanging out with people and doesn’t seem agitated, and she just feels like things are going to be okay.

When they move to watch movies Connor decides that he’s going to call it a night, saying goodbye to Zoe’s friends. 

“We’ll see you in school next week! You’re more than welcome to sit with us at lunch if you want,” Alana says, Jared and Evan quickly agreeing. Connor nods, saying goodbye one more time as he helps Zoe carry things up to the kitchen.

“I’m proud of you,” Zoe says when they’re safely in the kitchen.

She’s not surprised when Connor groans. “Please don’t say that,” He says, Zoe apologizing quietly. “You know that makes me feel like I’m going to let you down at some point.”

Zoe nods, putting everyone’s plates in the sink. “Fine. But like, you hung out with us and you didn’t seem overwhelmed, and it was…it was just nice.”

Connor nods, setting down the trays with sides on them by the sink. “I feel a little better about school now,” He admits, which makes Zoe happier than it should.

She turns to him, hovering in the doorway by the basement as she looks at him. “Can I hug you?”

Connor pauses, turning to look at her. He rolls his eyes, but smiles at his sister. “Fine, but no one hears of this.”

“Deal,” She agrees, walking over and wrapping her arms around her brother. Reluctantly — and maybe slightly awkwardly — Connor wraps his arms around Zoe.

In that moment things feel okay. Zoe knows they’re far from perfect, that there’s going to be ups and downs and a lot of twists, but things feel okay. 

It’s all she could ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woahhh long chapter! thank you for reading/commenting/sending kudos and whatever else! i love reading and seeing them all, they honestly make my day
> 
> you can always talk to me on tumblr if you'd like! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> more on Friday! :)


	22. twenty two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor goes back to school and Larry realizes he needs to change things.

Connor feels like his anxiety may kill him.

He feels like he can’t breathe, all he want to do is scratch at his arms, or smoke some weed, or be doing _anything_ but be getting ready for school.

He’s pulled his hair up and down a million times before finally settling on a bun, wondering if anyone would notice it was him.

He knows they will.

“Connor, Mom says you have to come eat something so you can take your meds before we have to leave,” Zoe says, poking her head into Connor’s room. “Hey, are you okay?”

Connor looks over at his sister, eyes wide and fiddling with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “What if I can’t do this?” He asks, sounding so much more vulnerable than Zoe could ever remember.

“Connor,” She says quietly, walking into his room. She doesn’t touch him. “You can do this. You’ve been working with Dr. James and Lila to make sure you’re caught up, and you know you can do this. I’m going to be there, it’ll be okay.”

Connor walks towards Zoe, resting his hands on her shoulders as he takes a deep breath. “Okay,” He says quietly, which Zoe knows is him trying to convince himself.

She just gives him a smile, turning and making her way downstairs with Connor following her, reminding herself that Connor’s wellbeing needs to come first today, and nothing else.

—

Walking into school really did go better than Connor and Zoe could’ve imagined. Most people didn’t say anything, although there were a few stares in their direction. Zoe walks with him to his locker before taking him to meet up with Alana, Evan and Jared, which Connor is secretly grateful for.

He’s just worried about parting with her, but he’d never admit that.

He doesn’t listen to their conversation, barely notices Evan and Zoe hanging all over each other and their little kisses that they share between the two of them, his mind too preoccupied with a million other thoughts. All he can think about is how he’s supposed to get through this day without Zoe or his mom right there.

He never thought he’d miss them being as close to him as they had been the last few weeks and months.

“Hey,” Zoe breaks him from his trance, standing in front of him. He notices everyone else is gone, and wonders how he managed to miss that. “You ready to go to homeroom?”

Connor nods, following Zoe down the hallway towards their homerooms. He knows they’re near each other, but he doesn’t think he’s ever realized how close.

She pauses just outside his homeroom door, leaning against the wall. “Promise me if you’re stressed or you feel like you can’t do this you’ll go to Mrs. White and have her call me. That you won’t um…you won’t hurt yourself or lash out or anything.”

Connor bites his lip, sighing. “I don’t know if I can promise that.”

Zoe’s face falls, but she doesn’t let him see. “Okay, well at least try. You’re not in this alone, okay? You’re not going to have to go through this by yourself, Connor. Just please, think about letting at least me in.”

Connor nods, and as the minute bell rings through the halls, he bids goodbye to his sister.

He doesn’t know how the day is going to go, but Zoe’s words ring through his mind through each minute.

—

Connor only eats his yogurt and granola bar after Zoe urges him to get something in his stomach at lunch, not that Zoe is surprised by that. He sits with them but doesn’t say a word, mostly spending the period with his head resting on his arms as he rests against the table. Zoe can see the concern on her friends faces, but she just shakes her head.

She knows this is Connor’s way of coping with overwhelming situations.

“Hey, you okay?” Zoe asks quietly, leaning into her brother so most of the table can’t hear.

Connor just shrugs, rolling his head to look at her. “It’s just hard. I don’t know, I’ll be fine.”

Zoe doesn’t press the issue further, but nods and squeezes his leg underneath the table. She hopes he realizes she just wants to help.

“Do you really um, do you really think he’s fine?” Evan asks when Connor leaves ahead of them to get to class, and Zoe just sighs.

She doesn’t have an answer.

“I like to think that if he’s not okay he’ll go to guidance and have them call me. But…I don’t know,” She sighs, and that’s the best thing she can come up with for Evan.

It makes both of them nervous.

—

Cynthia smiles when both of her kids walk through the door after school, but her smile falters when she sees her son.

He looks exhausted, eyes sunken in and shoulders slightly drooping. His bag falls next to his shoes by the door, walking into the kitchen to get something to drink.

“Connor, honey? Did you want to talk about your day?” She asks, Connor turning around to look at her.

“It was school,” He shrugs, sinking into the chair at the island. “I don’t know, it wasn’t awful I guess.”

Cynthia sighs, using all of her energy to stop herself from running her fingers through Connor’s now knotty hair that he pulled out of his bun. “Well not awful is a good step!” She says, trying to be optimistic. “I’m sure it’ll get easier.”

He just shrugs.

She lets both of them have a snack before ushering them to do their homework, leaving herself in the kitchen to start getting dinner ready.

Her mind stays fixed on Connor and his demeanor when he came home from school, wondering if they had timed this perfectly.

She doesn’t think they did.

—

The time Larry has spent at work is far too long, and he knows it. There’s nothing that he can do or say to refute it, the arguments with his wife are very real and something that he needs to fix.

But it’s how he copes.

He cares about Connor, honestly. He wants his son to get better, to be happy and to recover from everything that’s ever hurt him or every mental illness that’s ever plagued him.

But he’s apprehensive.

They had tried medication before. Tried therapy and rehab, and every other piece of advice doctors had given him. Nothing had worked then, and so when the suggestion from the psychiatrists and doctors at the hospital are to start intensive therapy and heavier medication he wants to lash out, wants to say that they’ve tried all that and it didn’t help. He wants to ask them to find something else, anything to save his son.

He stays quiet and allows their suggestions to be taken, setting up therapy sessions and heavier medication.

For the most part, he thinks they’re working. There are always days where Larry doesn’t think Connor is putting the effort or trying, but Cynthia always reminds him that there are going to be bad days. It’s hard for him to fathom, but he tries to understand. He wants to understand.

He’s always thought about talking to Connor about it. Asking him about how he’s feeling, or what he can do as a father to help him. But his and Connor’s relationship is rocky to say the least, and he doesn’t think he’s at the point where he and Connor can just sit and talk about everything Larry has done wrong by him.

Larry doesn’t think he’s ready to hear it all.

He spends his lunch break googling depression and anxiety, and parental advice for dealing with kids who may be affected.

He stumbles upon a support group that’s happening that afternoon at the local community center.

His heart races, looking through his calendar to see that he’s free.

He doesn’t _want_ to go, at least he doesn’t think he does. He doesn’t want to listen to a bunch of parents talk about how their kids are messed up and they don’t know what to do about it.

Pulling out his phone, he scrolls until he finds his wife’s contact name, typing and retyping a text to her for a least 5 minutes.

Nothing sounds like he wants it to.

_I’ll be home in time for dinner, but later than normal. If I’m not home by 7 just eat without me. Love you._

—

The community center is quiet, Larry finds, and he feels so far out of his body that he wonders if he’s dreaming.

He follows the directions on his phone, walking into a conference room where a few parents are sitting. They give him a small smile which he tries to return, but he doesn’t think he’s successful.

He plays on his phone for a few minutes, looking up when the person who organized the group begins. “I see we have a new guest today, would you like to quickly introduce yourself and give us a short summary as to why you’re here?”

Larry nods, taking a deep breath. “I’m Larry Murphy, and I’m here because my son has recently tried to commit suicide,” He says, feeling oddly relieved that he’s gotten it off of his chest. “This is his third attempt, but this was by far the closest he had gotten to being successful.”

There's a few responses and welcomes, and Larry notices their sympathetic smiles. He knows they’ve all been there, that they’re all in the same boat and struggling through this, but it doesn’t help him. It doesn’t make him feel like things are going any better for him.

He listens to the stories of the people who are there talking about their children. Their recoveries are spoken out loud, and for a moment Larry wonders if he even knows the extent of Connor’s recovery.

He knows he’s in therapy and on medication, but had anything changed? He had been home from the hospital for just over a month, surely things could’ve changed in that amount of time and he just hadn’t noticed or didn’t care.

“Larry, did you want to share your son’s recovery so far?” The woman he’s learned is named Linda asks. She has a smile on her face that Larry supposes is to be soft and encouraging, but he’s only more nervous by it.

They all have children who tried to take their own lives, but they seem happy. Larry couldn’t relate.

“He’s been in therapy three times a week for the past month since he’s been home from the hospital, and he’s on medication. It’s what works best for him right now, we’ve done rehab in the past and that wasn’t the answer,” Larry breathes out, looking around the room as all eyes are on him. “My son and I haven’t had the best relationship over the last few years, so I’m not entirely sure everything about his recovery. His mother handles it, and I mostly just stay out of the way so I don’t upset him or disrupt the recovery process.”

He stares at the desk in front of him, memorizing the lines in the wood in front of him. He doesn’t think he can look at everyone around him. They just seem like such good parents, so involved in their child’s recovery, and then there’s him.

He knows he’s not doing enough.

“Do you think maybe if you sat down and talked to him, let him tell you his feelings about you or how you’re handling things and what he wants you to understand about him would help?” Linda asks, Larry shrugging.

He feels like he’s being scrutinized.

“You know, my son and I had a similar relationship before his attempt. Seeing him in that hospital bed made me want to change things, but I didn’t know how,” A man who’s name tag read James says, looking in Larry’s direction. “I let him yell at me. Tell me everything he hated about how I had treated him and how much I hadn’t done for him or how the last few years had changed between us, and it seemed to help. Obviously I don’t know your son, but maybe that would be a start.”

Larry nods, thanking him quietly as he listens to everyone else’s story.

He gets back to his car and sits in the parking lot for a minute, collecting his thoughts, taking a deep breath.

He doesn’t know if any of the advice he got that night was going to help, but he was going to give it a shot.

Connor was his son, his first-born, his little boy. He was worth saving, and Larry was going to do everything in his power to make sure that he helped him now — better late than never at all.

He just prays that Connor lets him in.

—

Larry walks in just as Cynthia is setting dinner on the table, leaning in to kiss her cheek as he sets his things down on one of the island chairs.

“Everything okay?” She asks, looking at her husband after calling Connor and Zoe down for dinner.

Larry nods, setting two glasses of wine at his and Cynthia’s places. “I’ll talk to you about it once the kids are back upstairs,” He says quietly, which worries Cynthia.

She nods anyway.

Connor slumps into his seat across from Zoe without a word, taking a little bit of food on his plate.

Larry bites his lip to stop himself from saying something.

“So, Connor, how was your first day back? Did you feel okay?” Larry asks, surprising the rest of the family at him initiating the conversation.

Connor looks up at him, surveying the moment before shrugging. “I don’t know, I guess it was okay,” He finally says, which seems like a step in the right direction. “I just ignored almost everyone who tried to say anything to me.”

Cynthia frowns, setting her wine back down. “Connor, you can’t ignore everyone who wants to talk to you.”

Connor just shrugs.

“He made it through the day without going to guidance or calling me though, so maybe it worked,” Zoe steps in, which brings the smile back to her mother’s face. “I mean, obviously it’ll get easier. Don’t you think, Connor?”

Connor looks at his sister, nodding slowly as he takes another bite of his food.

Cynthia thinks the dinner could’ve gone worse, but it didn’t go great, either.

Connor helps her clear the plates, which is more than he’s done in years. She’s used to him storming off.

“Did you finish your homework?” She asks as they put things in the sink, hearing Connor sigh.

“Almost,” He mumbles, helping her with the last of the dishes before turning to her. “I’m going to shower and then finish it. I’ll come back down to say goodnight,” He says quietly, Cynthia nodding as she listens to him walk away while she finishes the dishes.

With both kids upstairs and Larry walking in with their wine glasses to be washed he knows this is the moment he needs to talk to his wife, and he can tell that Cynthia is thinking the same thing.

“I didn’t have to stay late at work,” He begins, speaking quietly.

Cynthia freezes. She’s only thinking of the worst.

“I was doing some research on my lunch break and I found a support group at the community center for parents who’s children attempted suicide. I um, I went,” He whispers, Cynthia shutting off the water to look at her husband.

“How was it?” She asks. Larry notices she doesn’t seem upset, but he’s worried that he’s struck a nerve, or that there’s something that he should’ve done beforehand that would’ve made this conversation a lot better.

“It was okay,” He shrugs, feeling almost as uncomfortable as he did in the meeting. “I learned a lot from the other parents. That it’s okay to feel the way I feel. But I need to change thing to get Connor better.”

Cynthia nods. It’s everything she already knew. “Did they give you any advice?”

Larry nods, letting out a shaky breath as he looks at her. “One dad said he had a similar relationship with his son. He found that letting his son yell at him, tell him everything he did wrong and how he hadn’t been there for him helped heal their relationship. I don’t know if it’ll work with Connor, but…”

“But it’s worth a shot,” Cynthia says, finishing his sentence. She dries off her hands, walking over to her husband and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “I know you and Connor have never had the father-son relationship that you wanted. Maybe letting him yell at you will be a good thing for both of you, and you guys can begin to heal and start over.”

“He hates me,” Larry whispers, looking up at the ceiling and blinking away the tears.

“He doesn’t hate you,” Cynthia replies, her thumb brushing against her husband’s cheek. “He may hate some of the things that have happened between the two of you, but he doesn’t hate you.”

Larry just nods. He doesn’t know what to say.

“I’ll try to talk to him tomorrow. He doesn’t have therapy, right?”

Cynthia laughs, shaking her head. “No, he doesn’t. Wednesday he does. He goes Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Today was canceled because Dr. James was sick and the other therapist couldn’t squeeze him into his schedule. Connor didn’t feel like he needed them to urgently reschedule it for today,” She says, Larry nodding.

Nothing would prepare him for the following day, but it’s a step they need to take.

He just hopes this step brings them healing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got so many comments/kudos last chapter that it was honestly a little bit overwhelming and so appreciated and definitely so unexpected thank you guys so much for leaving them/commenting/just even reading omg.
> 
> things are progressing with larry! i told you guys he'd come around eventually, i wasn't going to make him very one-dimensional and as if he didn't care, because i do think he did. and now here we are! you'll see how the talk goes tomorrow between the two of them, this chapter was just getting obnoxiously long and i didn't want to like, tack more on haha.
> 
> you can come talk to me on tumblr if you want! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> more on tuesday! thank you for reading :)


	23. twenty three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Connor and Larry talk, and Connor has a setback.
> 
> tw: blood mention, mentions of self harm

Larry feels like he’s climbing eight flights of stairs on his way to Connor’s room. It took him exactly an hour and a half to find the courage to even make his way up to talk to Connor, and that was with constant encouraging from Cynthia that it needed to happen, that he needed to face his fear head on to make any progress.

A part of him hopes Connor is asleep or working on homework, that way he’d have an excuse to put this off. But his hopes are dashed when he arrives in Connor’s doorway to find him reading, slumped against his pillows as he thumbs through another novel.

Larry wonders how many he’s actually read by now.

“Hey Connor, can we talk for a minute?” He says, Connor’s head snapping up to look at his father. He shrugs, crossing his legs and marking where he stopped in his book before setting it on his nightstand.

Larry takes it as his cue to walk in, pulling Connor’s desk chair out to sit in. “So, none of this is going to feel right, but I think you and I should talk about…us,” Larry begins, not surprised when Connor just stares at his comforter.

“I went to a support group yesterday. For parents who’s children have tried to commit suicide,” Larry says, taking a deep breath. “There was a dad there who said that when his son had attempted he found that letting his son tell him everything that he did wrong as a father, it helped them begin to heal.”

“Connor, I know I haven’t been the best father to you. I know I haven’t done everything that I could or everything in my power to help you. But I want to fix this. I want you to feel like you trust me, that you can come to me when you’re having a bad day or you just need to vent. But we’re never going to get there if we don’t start to heal now.”

Connor nods, twisting his hair tie around his wrist. Larry wonders if it’s a nervous tick.

“I always hoped that the more I acted out the more you would see that I was just crying out for help,” Connor says quietly after a moment, his eyes never leaving his comforter. “But then you started saying I was doing it all for attention and that I would get over it. That hurt a lot, Dad. I was so scared that something was wrong with me and I didn’t understand why I just wanted to…to _hurt_ everyone around me or hurt myself, but you didn’t care. You just kept telling me to knock it off, to get over whatever it was that was making me moody.”

Larry nods. He has so many things he wants to say, but he reminds himself that this is Connor’s moment to vent, and he can’t interrupt him.

“When Mom found me the first time and sent me to therapy I thought you supported her. I thought you understood why I needed this. And then it didn’t help me at all and you swore that it was the meds that made me so distant or whatever, and I hated it. I hated that you had no faith in me or that you thought you guys were doing too much. I didn’t think you’d ever think you were doing too much for me.”

Connor hastily wipes at his eyes, sniffling. He doesn’t bother stopping the tears from falling. “Then you sent me to rehab the next time. I was 15, Dad. I wanted to stay home with you guys, no matter how bad it was here. I didn’t want to leave home for the summer, I didn't want to be known as the town freak. But so much was going on in my brain and you just kept saying that I had no plan to get better and nothing was working so why should we keep trying new things, and I just wanted to give up. I wanted to get sent home from rehab and I wanted to lay in bed until the world swallowed me up. Do you know how scary that is?”

Larry shakes his head. Because no, he doesn’t know. He can’t even begin to comprehend how his son felt back then, or even now.

Connor looks up at Larry for the first time, eyes bloodshot and watery with tear tracks stained on his face. “I hated you for the way you seemed to think about me. For the way that you…that you portrayed yourself when it came to talking about all of my problems. I wasn’t doing this for attention, Dad. None of this was for attention. I wanted to die, Dad. Sometimes I still want to die, I still want the world to swallow me whole so I’m not a burden on you guys anymore. So that you don't have to worry about me anymore and you can just be that happy family you and Mom want.”

In an instant Larry moves from the chair to the bed, reaching out to wipe Connor’s tears off of his face. “You are not a burden, Connor. Please don’t ever think that you are, do you understand me? You are never a burden to me or your mother or your sister or anyone else. I promise you.”

Connor shakes his head, hiccuping as a sob escapes his throat. “I just don’t want to feel like you don’t care or that I’m never going to get better anymore. I need you to believe in me, I need you to be right there helping me through it all. Even the really bad days where you find any excuse as to why I’m not making any progress or why things aren’t getting better. I just…I need you, Dad. I’m trying so hard but I need you to support me almost as much as Mom and Zoe do,” Connor whispers, his voice breaking.

Without thinking Larry pulls Connor against his chest, letting his tears stain his dress shirt and Connor use his shoulder as a tissue. He feels his son heaving against him, begging him to have faith in him, begging him not to give up on him.

“Please Dad, please don’t give up on me,” Connor mumbles into Larry’s shirt, Larry pulling him tighter as he runs his fingers through his son’s long hair.

“I’m not going anywhere, buddy. I’m right here, supporting you through every single step. I promise you I’m going to be better.”

He rocks Connor back and forth until he calms down, not at all ashamed to admit that he let a few tears fall himself.

He needs to do better. If not for him, for Connor.

—

Zoe makes it a habit to have dinner with Evan and Heidi a few times a month, finding their house the perfect escape from everything. Connor was doing better, but Zoe still had moments where she didn’t think they were back to where they were years ago.

And that's okay. It’s going to take time.

“So, how is the organization going?” Heidi asks, passing around the salad to both Evan and Zoe.

Zoe glances at Evan. He doesn’t look like he’s going to answer. “It’s going okay, I guess. I mean, better than I thought it would,” She shrugs, reaching forward to take a sip of her soda. “We’ve had a few people come in person just to vent and talk about things, and then a few questions online for us to answer. Mrs. White thinks it may take off a little more after break when people see that it’s not as awkward as it may sound.”

Heidi smiles, nodding. “That's good, you guys! I think it’s so nice that you’re putting the effort in to do something like this, you know? It’s nice to know that there are kids who want to help other kids. Don’t you think, Evan?”

Evan looks up, nodding quickly. “Y-yeah,” He smiles, staring back down at his plate. “It’s just a lot um, a lot to think about? Sometimes I’m not sure that we should’ve started it.”

Zoe smiles, nodding. “I feel the same way a lot of the time, too. It’s hard to think about us helping anyone, but Mrs. White works so closely with us and we’re not giving professional advice,” She shrugs, looking at Evan. “I mean, I know that if I was going through something I’d probably feel more comfortable talking to a peer before I talked to an adult, you know? At least to hear their take on everything.”

Evan nods. “I know, m-me too,” He says, Heidi smiling at the both of them.

“Well, now that you’ve had your first meeting and things are starting to gain momentum you know where to go from here. You guys are always welcome to work on things here, you know that,” Heidi smiles, Evan nodding.

“Thanks, Mom,” He smiles, and for a moment everything just feels normal.

It feels like everything Zoe wishes her family felt like when they had dinner together, as much as she hates to admit it.

“Why don’t you guys go watch a movie. I’ll clean up in here and leave you guys be,” Heidi says, ushering them out of the kitchen despite their protests that they would help her with things.

Evan turns on a movie they had seen a million times before, sitting down on the sofa as Zoe curls up against him. It just feels right, like this is exactly what both of them need at the end of a week that felt far too long for both of them.

Zoe feels her phone vibrating in her pocket, but doesn’t feel like moving to get it. Her family knows where she is, and with her mom at her friends house for the night Zoe doesn’t think her dad or brother would be calling her.

But then her phone starts ringing again, and reluctantly she pulls her phone out of her pocket to see Connor’s name flashing across the screen.

“Con?” Zoe asks, sitting up with a look of concern on her face. “You okay? You never call me.”

Evan feels his anxiety heighten.

“Zoe, I need you to come home. I don’t know where you are but I feel like I need to hurt myself and I can’t stop myself from looking for something to use and I just need you. I need you to come home and help me, Zoe. Please,” He pleads, his voice running at a mile a minute. Zoe thinks she can hear something being thrown in the background.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?” She asks, not surprised when Connor pleads for her to, begging for her to move faster.

Zoe stands up from the sofa abruptly, Heidi peeking her head around the corner with concern written all over her face. Using one hand Zoe slips her shoes back on, moving the phone from ear to ear as she shrugs on her jacket with Evan’s help.

Pressing her phone to her shoulder Zoe looks between Heidi and Evan, the guilt written across her face. “Connor feels like he wants to hurt himself. It’s only our dad home with him so Connor wants me to come home,” She says quickly Heidi’s face softening.

“Go, sweetheart,” She says, Evan walking forward and kissing Zoe quickly.

“Call me or text me tonight if you can, let me know if he’s um, if he’s okay?” He asks, Zoe nodding.

She turns on her heels and runs out to her car, barely getting it turned on before she’s backing out of Evan’s driveway and heading towards her own house.

She makes Connor keep talking to her, forcing him to talk about what he’s doing, what he can see in his room, how he’s feeling. She asks him to name the different colors of his books and walls, wondering if it was even working at all. She knows there’s better coping techniques, things she should be doing to help him, but her mind is racing and she’s really trying to focus on not crashing the car that she can’t think of what they are.

“I’m coming inside right now, Connor. Don’t move from your bed, okay? Just sit there and breathe and I’ll be right there,” Zoe says, shutting the car off and hanging up the phone. In a panic she almost runs into the front door, fumbling with the knob until she forces it open, kicking off her shoes and running upstairs.

Her mind is racing when she turns into Connor’s room, noticing the blood on his arm. His breathing is erratic and for a moment she worries that they’re going to have to go to the ER again. “Con, can I come sit with you?”

Connor’s head snaps up as he nods, balling his hands in and out of fists. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, Con, shh, it’s okay. You’re more important than anything I was doing, okay?” She soothes, not surprised when Connor doesn’t answer. “I’m glad you called me and told me,” She says, reaching out for a towel on Connor’s bed that she can use to wipe off the blood and see how bad he had hurt himself.

She takes a moment, pushing the sick that’s rising in her throat away as she cleans up the blood. “Did you use anything to hurt yourself? Did you find something that you didn’t tell me about on the phone?”

Connor shakes his head, taking a deep breath. “I used my fingernails,” He whispers, which Zoe finds odd considering he bites his nails.

She doesn’t see anything else that he would’ve used anywhere, so she believes him.

“Con, I can’t bandage these myself, I need help so we make sure they don’t get infected. Would it make you more upset if I got Dad? Or do you want me to call Mom and see if she can come home?”

Connor’s silent for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut. His face is blotchy, tear tracks running down as he struggles to control his breathing. “You can call Dad,” He finally whispers, Zoe nodding.

She goes to his doorway, calling for their dad before walking back to sit next to Connor again. She doesn’t touch him, but he seems to be calming down since she’s been there.

Larry arrives in the doorway, and the panic that had started to disappear slowly crept back in, his eyes widening. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do this but I just felt like I needed to hurt myself and I didn’t know what else to do so I used my fingers and I’m so sorry, Dad. I’m sorry,” Connor speaks quickly, Larry rolling over the desk chair to sit in front of his son, using the towel Zoe had been using to wipe away the blood.

Zoe knows he’s looking to see if Connor had reopened his scars.

“I’m sorry,” Connor whispers again, Larry looking up at him. Zoe watches, wondering why their dad didn’t look upset or hurt by anything.

“Hey, it’s okay. Relapses happen, I’m not mad, Connor. You could’ve came and talked to me, but I’m glad you called someone.”

Zoe turns to look at Connor. Connor doesn’t look at her, but Zoe has never been more confused.

Larry has never been like this, not when it came to Connor.

“It doesn’t look like you reopened the scars enough to need stitches, but I’m going to bandage them, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Larry stands to leave and get some gauze and bandages, and Zoe looks at Connor. She wants to ask him what’s going on so bad, but she knows Connor won’t talk about it, not right now.

Larry silently works on Connor’s arm, Connor holding still. He’s still crying, his free hand resting in Zoe’s, but it feels slightly better. Like Connor is slowly calming down.

“This isn’t going to get better overnight,” Connor whispers, his voice small and distant. Larry nods, using the medical tape to finish his bandaging, mumbling something about how Cynthia could fix it when she got home later that night.

“I know it’s not,” Larry replies, looking up at his son. “But I do think if we keep working on it, it’ll get better. We’re going to keep trying to work on this, right?” He asks, Connor nodding slowly.

Larry stays until Connor says he feels better, but Zoe doesn’t think she can leave him. “Come get me if you need me, okay buddy? Please don’t shut me out,” Larry says, which sounds a lot more like pleading than anything else.

Connor nods, thanking Larry quietly. Larry kisses Connor’s head, which surprise Zoe in itself. She doesn’t know what she missed, but she feels like she needs to know.

Zoe leaves to go to her room and change into sweatpants, returning to Connor’s room to see him slowly changing himself. It’s then that Zoe notices the blood on Connor’s t-shirt he had been wearing.

“Dad and I talked this afternoon,” Connor mumbles as if he could read Zoe’s mind. “He told me he went to a support group for people who’s kids attempted to kill themselves. He said some guy there said his son told him everything he hated about their relationship and it helped them heal.”

“So that’s what you and Dad did today?” Zoe asks, watching her brother nod. He walks to lay down in bed, and reluctantly Zoe sits on the edge. “Did it work?”

“I don’t know,” Connor laughs, clearly exhausted. “I mean maybe? I just, it’s going to take a lot for me to just let him in.”

“It should take you a while.”

“But I don’t want it to,” He whispers, Zoe frowning.

“Connor, he’s there for you. That’s a start that we need, you know? Take it slow, but give it time. I think right now was a good indication that he’s willing to change.”

Connor nods, reaching his hand out for Zoe to take. She finds that she can’t stop staring at the bandages on his arm.

“I still kind of feel like I want to hurt myself,” He admits, squeezing his eyes shut as if he’s ashamed to say it out loud.

“Want me to stay with you until you fall asleep?” She asks, Connor nodding quickly.

She lays down on the bed, pulling out her phone quickly as she gets comfortable, her hand moving to rest on Connor’s shoulder as his back is towards her.

**Connor is okay. Reopened his scars but my dad bandaged them. I’ll tell you about him and my dad tomorrow. Sorry I ran out on you like that. He’s just never opened up like this to me. I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise. I love you <3**

Zoe rubs Connor’s back as she listens to his breathing, the two of them not saying anything. Zoe doesn’t think they have to, she just thinks Connor needs someone there with him to show him that he’s not alone.

Cynthia gets home from her friends house and Larry tells her what happened. With her mind filled with worry she takes the steps two at a time to make it to Connor’s room. She needs to see her son for herself, needs to see for herself that he’s okay. She can’t just take her husband’s word for it.

What she finds is Connor and Zoe asleep in Connor’s bed together, Connor’s arm bandaged and Zoe’s hand resting against his back.

Not wanting to disturb them Cynthia quietly drapes the blankets over the two of them, leaving a kiss on both of their heads. She decides to deal with the bandaging in the morning, leaving Connor be like she knows she needs to.

Things aren’t okay. Connor’s having a tough time, they all feel helpless, but right now seeing her two children together makes things feel like they should have hope. Hope that relationships will be mended and eventually Connor will feel okay all of the time, and that alone brings some happiness to Cynthia in that moment.

Her two children are slowly getting back to how they were before, and somehow that makes everything else feel just a little more bearable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so they're making progress, which is a step!
> 
> thank you for all of the love, i died a little when i reached 100 kudos the other day like? i just never thought that would happen to me on this story omg so thank you for reading/leaving comments/kudos/everything else :)
> 
> i've been thinking about writing little prompts on tumblr to help with some writer's block on a new story i've been playing around with! you can send me some from a prompt list i reblogged on tumblr a few days ago or any at all if you want :) for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> more on friday! thank you for reading :)


	24. twenty four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where things start to mend and Zoe opens up more with Evan
> 
> tw: talks about self-harm

Zoe wakes up first the next morning with her hand still resting on Connor’s shoulder. Someone had draped a blanket over them in the middle of the night, resting it just under their chins like it used to be when they had sleepovers when they were younger.

Zoe wishes this moment felt like those.

She carefully stretches, moving her hand away from her brother as he sighs in his sleep, his eyes never opening. He looks peaceful Zoe thinks when she manages to peer over his broad shoulder, his eyelashes resting peacefully against his skin. There’s no stress lines, but she does notice the bags under his eyes and the faint remnants of tear tracks running down his cheeks.

She doesn’t want to think about the night before.

Pulling her phone from the nightstand Zoe realizes it’s almost 10, way later than she’s woken up in months. She’s grateful for the weekend, grateful that she doesn’t have to think about going to school or worry about Connor going to school. Last night terrified her, and she worries that things are only going to get worse the more they settle into a routine of Connor being back with his peers.

After waiting almost 20 minutes she quickly realizes that Connor isn’t going to wake up, and so she decides to carefully leave the room. Connor had never been a particularly heavy sleeper, and most nights when they had a sleepover he would always wake up when she’d attempt to sneak away to go to the bathroom or see her mom about a dream she had had.

This time he doesn’t even stir, and Zoe wonders how much the medication helps him sleep as much as it does help his moods. She hopes it’s more than any other medication has helped him before.

There’s Christmas music playing quietly downstairs, and after washing her face and tying her hair up into a messy bun Zoe makes her way downstairs. Her mom is humming along quietly as she hangs stockings and garland over the fireplace, her father working on the lights on the deck outside. It feels normal, Zoe thinks, which is odd considering that just over 12 hours ago she was rushing home to stop her brother from hurting himself.

“Morning, Zoe,” Cynthia says, almost too cheery for her liking. She wonders if Larry told her what happened at all, or if this is just some big secret that Cynthia is oblivious to. “I was wondering when you’d be up. Did you sleep well?” She asks, Zoe shrugging as she grabs some garland out of the storage bin.

“I guess so. I didn’t mean to spend the whole night in Connor’s room. I told him I’d stay until he fell asleep, but I guess I fell asleep too,” She shrugs, Cynthia smiling at her daughter.

She finishes hanging the garland, turning around to look at her daughter. “You know, when I heard what happened last night from your father and came up to check on Connor, I was surprised to see you in his room,” She admits, Zoe nodding. “But it’s the most peaceful Connor has looked in weeks. He didn’t look stressed or worried, he was just asleep.”

Zoe takes a moment to think about it, because she had never thought about that.

Connor hadn't had many good days, or at least full good days. There was usually at least one panic or anxiety attack, or a bout of rage that they were dealing with. They were becoming less of an issue and maybe even less frequent, but they were still working on it. Reminding themselves that progress is good is the hardest part.

“Last night was scary,” Zoe admits, pulling their stockings out of the storage bin before pulling out the Christmas pillows. “It’s the worst I’ve seen Connor since he’s been home from the hospital I think.”

Cynthia frowns, nodding as she takes the stockings from her daughter’s hand. “Your dad told me Connor was pretty anxious and just kept apologizing,” She says quietly, busying her mind by moving into the kitchen to dry the dishes that had been left on the drying rack overnight. “I know I’m going to have to fix his bandages, but do you know what triggered the outburst? He seemed okay when I checked in on him before I left, so I thought he’d be okay with Dad here for a few hours.”

Zoe shakes her head, making herself breakfast and sitting down at the island. "I went to Evan’s and he called me twice. I answered the second time and he was freaking out saying how he really wanted to hurt himself and he was looking for something to use and he wanted me to come home. I drove as fast as I could but stayed safe, and made him stay on the phone and talk to me so I knew he wouldn’t find anything to use.”

Cynthia swallows the lump in her throat. Zoe notices and stops her recount of last night’s events after. She doesn’t think her mom needs to hear the rest.

“Bad days are going to happen,” Cynthia says softly, which annoys Zoe. They’re both aware of that, but for once Zoe wishes Cynthia would just stop being so optimistic bout things.

Connor wasn’t doing well, and she just wanted her mom to admit it.

“They shouldn’t be this bad,” Zoe mumbles, praying it doesn’t start a fight.

Cynthia nods, resting his hands against the cool counter. “Connor needs us to help him. Your dad is stepping up in a big way, but you and I can’t stop supporting him. We need to keep showing him that we’re there for him.”

Zoe nods slowly, and before she has a chance to even form some sort of sentence Connor walks into the kitchen, looking as exhausted as Zoe knows he probably feels.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Cynthia says softly, Connor grunting a response. “Did you sleep okay?”

Connor shrugs, reaching for a bowl to pour cereal into. Cynthia sees the bandages peeking out from underneath his sweatshirt, a harsh reminder that she’s going to have to fix those, that this wasn’t all just a bad dream. “Slept okay, I guess,” He mumbles, not making eye contact with any of them.

“When you’re done eating can I redo your bandages?” She asks, watching Connor sink into the seat beside his sister.

“Do I really need them on?”

Cynthia bites her lip. She didn’t think this conversation would come with a fight. “I’ll have to look at the cuts when I take those bandages off. Maybe you won’t, but they can’t get infected.”

Connor nods, taking a bite of his cereal. “Last night was really bad,” He says softly, Zoe’s head snapping up to look at him. She shares a glance with her mom, but neither of them say anything. “I’ve um, I’ve had moments where I wanted to hurt myself, but this was the worst.”

“You’ve felt like this before since you’ve been home?” Cynthia asks, the concern etched through her words.

Zoe rolls her eyes. She thought it was obvious that Connor had felt like this.

Connor just nods, taking a deep breath. “A few times, yeah. I’ve scratched at the scars a few times, made them bleed and Zoe’s helped me clean them up and you knew about the others, but this was the worst.”

Cynthia nods. She tries not to cry like she has so many times before since everything had happened. She knows Connor hates it. “It’s okay to have bad days, Connor. I know this isn’t easy, but I’m proud of you for telling us.”

Connor cringes, and Cynthia apologizes. She knows he doesn’t like when they say they’re proud.

Connor finishes his cereal in silence, and when Cynthia returns with the gauze and bandages he doesn’t protest. Zoe stays planted in her seat at the island watching carefully as Cynthia peels back the bandages, revealing three angry red cuts.

She can’t help but wince.

“Okay, I’m going to clean them up and then I’ll decide if I need to put the gauze on them. Maybe just big bandaids,” She compromises, which Connor seems to agree with as he holds his arm still, watching her every move as she disinfects the cuts.

In the end she puts on bandaids as a compromise, which Connor silently thanks her for as she disappears to get his meds out for him to take. Zoe throws out the trash Cynthia had left on the counter, lingering in the kitchen.

She doesn’t want to admit she’s afraid to leave Connor alone.

“Thanks for spending the night with me,” He says quietly, fiddling with the string on his hoodie. “I woke up in the middle of the night and you were still there. Just um, thanks?”

Zoe nods, walking back over to stand on the opposite side of the island from him. “I’m glad you called me last night and told me how you were feeling. I’m sure that took a lot for you to do.”

Connor nods, letting out a deep breath as he takes the pills from Cynthia. “I’m sorry if I ruined anything last night. You were at Evan’s, right?” Zoe nods. “Hopefully I didn’t like make you stop something.”

Zoe feels her face flushing, laughing. “You definitely didn’t, don’t worry,” She promises, smiling bigger when she sees Connor smile at that.

“You didn’t have to do any of this for me, but you did. And like, I don’t deserve it.” Zoe goes to protest, stopping herself when Connor holds his hand up. “You can’t say anything that would make me think otherwise, Zoe. I told you I wanted to kill you so many times before, to the point where you were terrified of me. And now I’m telling you when I want to hurt myself and you rush home, away from your boyfriend, and like, I don’t know,” He sighs, shaking his head. “We’ve just made a lot of progress since a few months ago.”

“We have,” Zoe whispers, nodding slowly. “And I don’t want that to change. I want to help you, Connor. I want to help you through those bad moments. Last night was scary for me, I’m going to be honest, but you’re safe. That’s what matters to me. You’re not in the hospital, you’re not…you’re not dead. You’re here and you’re not okay but you’re getting there and that’s what matters to me. I’ll be scared all I want, but if you feel like you need me to stay safe then call me. Just like you did last night.”

Connor nods, and unexpectedly he stands up and pulls his sister in for a hug. Zoe holds him, biting her tongue from pointing out that she can feel him crying.

Cynthia watches from the entryway into the kitchen, letting her own tears fall without stopping them.

This was a sight she feared she’d never see again.

—

After numerous attempts to get Connor to come with her with no success, Zoe finds herself back at Evan’s for the second day in a row, this time slightly early to talk with Evan before Alana and Jared joined them to work through some questions on their website.

Heidi smiles when Zoe walks into the kitchen just behind Evan, saying hello quietly. “Hope things are better today,” She smiles, Zoe nodding as she takes the drink that Evan had offered her.

“They are, thank you,” She smiles, and for a moment Zoe believes that. Her mind doesn’t wander to Connor back at her house still not feeling like himself, and how last night’s events will probably always be in her mind.

Heidi excuses herself from the room as Evan and Zoe move to sit in the living room, and Evan can tell that Zoe wants to talk about things.

“Connor was the worst I’ve seen him last night, self-harming wise,” Zoe says quietly, reaching out for Evan’s hand for her to hold. “He didn’t find anything to use thank god, but he used his fingernails to scratch open his scars from um, from the last attempt,” Zoe whispers, blinking away the tears as best as she could.  
“I spent the night in his room after my dad bandaged him up. He didn’t ask me to, but he was definitely not in the right frame of mind to be alone.”

Evan nods quickly, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Your um, your dad helped?” He asks, and Zoe can’t help but laugh.

“Trust me, I was just as surprised as you,” She assures him, relaxing slightly when Evan smiles. “Apparently my dad went to a support group for parents who’s kids have attempted suicide. He got advice from a dad there who said that letting his son tell him everything he did wrong helped them begin to heal,” Zoe says, her fingers running along Evan’s hand. “I guess that’s what they did when I was here yesterday? Connor didn’t say much about it and I didn’t want to press it, but I guess they started to heal their relationship,” She shrugs, her head falling against her boyfriend’s shoulder.

“That's um, that’s good though, right?” Evan asks, feeling Zoe nod against his shoulder. “Like he…he has your dad now and maybe things will get better?”

Zoe sighs, squeezing Evan’s hand. “God, I hope so. I hope this is the beginning of them healing. The beginning of my dad finally understanding that Connor isn’t going to magically be better, but that he’s trying to work on it. I think we all need that, even when Connor says he doesn’t,” She whispers, Evan nodding as he pulls her closer.

She wishes she could just magically make that happen. No more hurting, no more healing. Just her dad being there for Connor relentlessly, never once wavering when things get tough.

—

Zoe finds the answering questions part of the organization is the most cathartic thing for her. There are more questions coming in by the day, and according to Jared their website had been getting a lot of traffic. Zoe knows she isn’t a therapist, but after months of learning to work with Connor on things, she thinks she can give some pretty sound advice as a sibling of someone who is so affected by mental illness.

That being said, she would be lying if she said her breath didn’t get caught in her throat when she opens up one of the questions that someone had sent in.

_My brother has self-harmed and been suicidal for as long as I can remember. He hides it from our parents, but I know he needs help. How should I go about showing him that I’m there for him without making him angry or worse off? I don’t want to scare him, but I don’t know how to help him get better. Therapists have given me advice, but I feel like unless you’ve been in this position you don’t really know. Hopefully one of you can help me._

“Zoe, you okay?” Alana asks, eyes fixed on the girl across the room in Evan’s house.

Zoe’s head snaps up, sighing as she nods quickly. “This question is just um, it’s everything I wish I would’ve asked someone who’s been through this,” She admits, which takes a lot when she’s been in denial that this is what she wanted for years.

Carefully and calculated she reads the question out, watching her friends reactions when she finishes. “Do you want one of us to answer it?” Jared asks after a long pause, not at all surprised when Zoe shakes her head quickly.

“I think I need to handle this one. I need to um, I need to answer this as the answer I wish any sibling who’s gone through this would’ve told me.”

And so she begins, typing and erasing an answer at least a million times. A few times Evan glances over, offering to help, but Zoe always shakes her head. She knew what it was like to feel the same way this person felt, and she wants to be the person to tell them that there’s a way to make this better, there’s a way to be a good sibling.

_I wish that there was something I could say that definitely works. Having gone through this personally and knowing firsthand how you feel, I wish I could tell you that it was easy for me to show my brother that I cared. But unfortunately it took a suicide attempt and a weeks hospital stay for my brother to begin realizing that I cared, and even then it took weeks and months of repairing our relationship. I hope that it doesn’t get that bad for you, that you’re able to help your brother before it gets to that point._

_Your brother may want to push you away. He may deny that he needs help, that things are bad for him and he needs to know that he’s not alone. There are going to be times that you’re going to have to let him push you away. Your brother may not be telling your parents, and while I know you may not want to go behind his back and hurt his trust, telling your parents that you’re worried about him may be a good start. Don’t mention the self-harm if you don’t think that’s something that would be beneficial, but maybe tell your parents that you’ve noticed a change in your brother, and you’re worried that he may be feeling stuck or sad or depressed._

_Try talking to your brother. When my brother was in the hospital and in the weeks after he was released I found that telling him that I wasn’t leaving, that I wanted to help him was the most beneficial. To this day, almost two months after his suicide attempt, my brother still has times when he pushes me away. It’s not going to get better overnight, but you have to start somewhere. You have to let him push you away, but you cannot ever waver your support. The second you waver will be the moment that he doesn’t think you’re really going to support him._

_I’m not sure that my advice would help you, but as a sister who is going through the same things that you’re so worried about, I understand. You want your brother to be okay, even if he’s not the best person or you’ve had bad times. If it takes you initiating the conversation to get him better, then it may just be the best thing that you’ve ever done for him._

_Please let me know if you need any other advice, from one sibling to another. Therapists are definitely better at this than I am, but I agree, sometimes it takes hearing a personal account of what someone else would’ve done to know that you’re not alone in this._

Zoe saves her answer to show Mrs. White the next day, shutting her laptop and letting her eyes close.

She just wanted to show people that it does get better, even if it never feels like it.

She doesn’t feel like she’s successful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the love this story has been receiving the last few updates has made my day like ?? i don't know i just never thought this many people would like my writing i'm dying. but thank you so much for taking the time to read/leave kudos/comment :)
> 
> things are getting better with Connor slowly though! baby steps for him :)
> 
> you can talk to me on tumblr if you'd like! for-f0rever.tumblr.com
> 
> more on tuesday! thank you for reading! :)


	25. twenty five.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where connor goes to an organization meeting and he and zoe bond

Connor feels so wildly out of his comfort zone sitting in the guidance office after school. Zoe had begged him to come to the meeting that afternoon, and with his therapy session with Dr. James pushed back an hour, he really doesn’t have an excuse to not go.

So he sinks down into the chair around the conference table, tying his hair up into a bun messily and looking around the room.

He doesn’t know why he feels so nervous, really, because he knows all of Zoe’s friends. Sure, they’ve only spent just over an hour together since everything had happened, but they seem nice.

He doesn’t think Zoe would have him around them if they weren’t.

Evan smiles at him when he walks in, falling into the chair on the opposite side of Zoe. Connor relaxes slightly, but grimaces when Zoe leans over to kiss Evan. “Oh get over it,” Zoe smiles, looking back at her brother. “You getting sober means you’re going to have to deal with me being loving towards Evan. It’s always been there, you’ve just missed it.”

“Wish I was high again. Then I wouldn’t have to see this,” Connor mumbles, flinching when Zoe smacks his arm.

She knows he doesn’t mean that. She knows he’s doing much better without the drugs in his life.

“Connor, it’s so nice to see you!” Mrs. White smiles when she walks in, Connor trying to smile back when he looks up at you. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Connor nods, sitting up a little straighter. He doesn’t know why he’s so intimidated. “I told Zoe maybe I’d come one day, and I didn’t have anything today until later so I figured I’d come,” He shrugs, watching her sit in the seat at the head of the table.

He’s never been more relieved to see that she drops the conversation.

Zoe slides her laptop in front of Mrs. White, having her read over the answer that she had typed out the night before. Connor watches with careful eyes, holding up his hand when he hears Alana call for him.

“Zoe, this is such a thought out answer. Definitely send that back to them. Obviously if they ask anything more personal I’ll get involved, but that answer is exactly what they need to hear from someone who understands,” She smiles, Zoe nodding as she slides her laptop back in front of her, taking a deep breath before hitting post.

“What question did you answer?” Connor asks, looking at his sister. “Like the one you just posted? What were they asking?”

Zoe sighs, clicking through a few things before bringing up the post. “Whatever you do, please don’t freak out here,” She mumbles, Connor sighing.

“Zoe,” He whispers, balling his hand into a fist. “I can’t control that.”

“I know,” She whispers, but there’s still a hint of apprehensiveness in her words. Like she’s truly worried Connor is going to freak out.

He can’t blame her.

Zoe watches with bated breath as Connor’s eyes scan over the words, slowly and methodically. It’s almost like he’s analyzing it, trying to find a way to pick it apart, tell her that she’s ridiculous for ever writing something like this when she did almost none of it over the last three years.

He finally leans back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes continue staring at the screen. He doesn’t even notice everyone’s eyes on him, their work now abandoned.

“That was…that was really good,” He finally says, and Zoe visibly relaxes. “I know um, I know you didn’t do all of that over the last few years. But you’re doing it now.”

Zoe nods. She reaches over, taking his hand and squeezing it. “I’m going to do everything I told that person to. I should’ve been doing all of that for years,” She says, and Connor just nods.

He knows she should’ve been doing more, but none of that matters now. What matters is she’s trying now, and somehow, through all the bad days and the dark points where there feels like there’s no return, she’s there.

It’s all he’s wanted.

—

Connor takes a back seat to most of the conversation, but Alana puts a question in front of him about medications and wanting to stop them when they feel like they don’t work. “I mean, I’m on it and so is Evan, but maybe this one would be a good one for you to answer,” She shrugs, but Connor doesn’t think she’s right.

He had refused medication for so many years. He would skip doses, to the point where he was able to abuse the medication in an attempt to take his own life. And now they want him to answer a question about taking medication when sometimes he doesn’t think it’s working.

It doesn’t seem like the right approach.

“Just answer it honestly,” Zoe urges, and so Connor leans forward, beginning to type whatever comes to mind.

_Coming from someone who’s been on more medications than I can remember and having to go through trials and errors of finding a medication that works, I’d say keep taking it. It takes up to a month sometimes for me to feel like my medicine is doing anything. In the past I’ve given up and skipped medication doses, which I would never recommend doing. It can make you worse._

_If you really feel like a medication isn’t working out, talk to your doctor. You may not have given it enough time to let it begin showing it’s effects, or it may really not be the right medicine for you. The meds I’m on now work more than anything else ever has, but it took years to figure that out. As much as it sucks, you just have to be patient._

Without a word he slides the laptop over to Mrs. White, who reads it over and adds a paragraph about talking to a professional, signing that part from her. “You can post that, Connor. I think that’s a good start for your first question that you answered,” She encourages. Connor nods, taking the laptop back in front of him, looking at his answer once more.

He hits post before he regrets it and changes his mind.

—

Connor can’t figure out when Dr. James’ office began feeling comfortable to him. For so long he hated going, would often protest and try to find ways out of it. His mom would practically have to drag him there, and if he had the energy in the beginning he probably would’ve fought her on it, promising that he was fine and he didn’t need therapy nearly as much as he had been ordered to go from the doctors.

Now he almost enjoys his appointments, and doesn’t find talking about himself nearly as off-putting as he had so many times before. He can’t remember when it started feeling like this, or when sharing so much about his life that he had hid away stopped being so scary to him.

Now he just felt like it was a normal part of his life.

“I stayed after school with Zoe today. She was doing that organization we had talked about?” Connor begins, sinking down into the couch cushions across from Dr. James. They’ve never gotten more comfortable since he began.

“And how did that go?” Dr. James asks, pulling out his notepad and looking back at the younger boy.

Connor thinks about it for a moment, shrugging as he looks at the diplomas hanging on the wall. “Really well, actually. I thought it was going to make me really anxious, but it didn’t. I helped them answer a few questions, and I read one that Zoe had written out the night before. She was afraid that was going to make me freak out, but it didn’t.”

Dr. James nods, writing a few things down. “So you didn’t mind what Zoe wrote?”

Connor shakes his head. “She’s really good at giving advice about this,” He says, folding his hands together. “Like, reading what she wrote kind of made me realize that I’ve put her through a lot, too. It’s not just um, it’s not just my parents that have gone through this. Zoe has…Zoe’s seen it all.”

There’s a pause, and Connor wonders if he’s going to cry thinking about how hard Zoe is trying to get past everything he’s put her through. He wonders when he got so emotional about things.

“Zoe has been through a lot, but you two have made remarkable progress in your relationship. I know it’s not perfect, but I think you guys are in a good place right now. Do you think you are?” He asks, setting his pen down when Connor squeezes his eyes shut.

Connor lets out a shaky breath, reaching his hands up to rub at his eyes.

He doesn’t feel his bandages peek out.

“This weekend I felt like I wanted to hurt myself really bad. Like, the worst it’s been since I’ve been home from the hospital,” He confesses, refusing to make eye contact with Dr. James.

He doesn't think he’ll be able to take his sympathetic looks.

“Zoe was at her boyfriend’s and my mom was out with friends. It was just my dad and I home. I um, my dad and I are doing better but Zoe just gets it? So I called her freaking out and panicking and she came home. Like at the drop of a hat she left her boyfriend’s and came back home and talked me through it. My dad had to help bandage my scars that I reopened, but Zoe stayed with me all night, talking me through the suicidal thoughts and distracting me so I couldn’t hurt myself with literally anything I could find.”

“I’m glad you called her, Connor,” Dr. James says, and Connor can hear his pen scribbling feverishly across the paper. “Did you have to see a doctor about your scars? I noticed the bandages.”

Connor shakes his head, sniffling and rubbing at his eyes. “My dad bandaged them and then my mom redid it the next morning when she came home. She said they looked okay, that she didn’t think I needed any medical intervention.”

Dr. James nods, writing a few more things down. “Relapses happen. I’m not going to tell you that this medication should’ve prevented that from happening, because that’s not at all the case. But you took the initiative and you reached out for help, and that’s a giant leap forward from where we were a few months ago, don’t you agree?”

Connor nods.

“You and Zoe are doing much better, you’re doing better despite the bad days, and this is a good turn for you.” Setting his pen down, Dr. James leans forward, the smallest of smiles on his face. “I know you don’t feel like you’re making any progress, but I promise you, you are. Can you keep working hard at this with me?” He asks, and immediately Connor nods.

It’s the one promise he doesn’t have a hesitation in agreeing to.

—

They arrive home and immediately Connor retreats upstairs, barely saying hello to his dad. Larry notices the blotchy skin and bloodshot eyes, and decides not to press the issue.

It’s a lot easier said than done.

“He’s fine,” Cynthia assures him, moving around the kitchen to get started on dinner. “Dr. James is really, really pleased with his progress. Which is a huge step in this recovery than ever before, don’t you agree?” She asks, watching her husband nod. “Maybe you can come to the next session. I just wait in the waiting room, but after he’s done I get a little report and I think it’d be good for you to hear what Dr. James has to say.”

“Okay,” Larry nods, and for a moment Cynthia really believes him.

She has to try with everything she has to not get her hopes up that he’s telling the truth about being there.

—

Connor walks upstairs, stopping outside his sister’s door and knocking. It takes a second before Zoe answers, shock on her face. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but you look awful.”

Connor laughs softly, rolling his eyes. “I know. And I don’t think I can be alone right now, but I don’t want to watch TV and risk Mom and Dad trying to talk to me about how I’m feeling. Can I stay in here?” He asks, and immediately Zoe nods, opening her door wider for him to walk in.

She goes back to working on her homework at her desk, Connor laying on her bed. For a moment she feels 8 years old again, when Connor would lay on her bed and dramatically declare that he wasn’t doing his homework until their mom would come upstairs and yell at him to finish.

Now he’s laying on her bed after a therapy session that obviously put him through a lot, and something tells her that his homework can wait a few more hours.

“Your nail polish is gone,” Zoe says, breaking the silence in the room.

Connor turns his head to look at her, his eyebrows furrowing. “What?”

“Your nail polish,” Zoe repeats, gesturing to her brother’s hands. “You had nail polish on when you were in the hospital. You don’t have it anymore.”

Connor looks at his hands, shrugging after a moment. “Zoe, I was in the hospital like almost two months ago. I’ve chipped it off since then. It’s kind of a nice stress relief to pick at it.”

Zoe nods, because she does the same thing with her own nail polish. “I can redo it for you,” She offers, turning her chair to face her brother. “I have black nail polish if you want me to redo it.”

Connor sighs, shrugging as he sits up. “If you want to,” He says, and immediately Zoe abandons her homework.

Bonding with her brother is more important.

She pulls the black nail polish from the drawer in her desk, sliding a magazine from out underneath her laptop and moving to sit across from her bed. Connor doesn’t move to sit up, but he lifts his hand for Zoe to slide the magazine underneath it, which is a step in the right direction, Zoe thinks.

“Did you ever think you’d be painting your brother’s nails?” Connor mumbles, staring at the ceiling in Zoe’s bedroom. He hears her laugh, and turns his head just enough to see her shake hers.

“No, I didn’t,” She confesses, slowly painting each nail with such precision that it makes Connor a little anxious. “But it’s nice. It just…it feels…”

“Normal?” Connor finishes for Zoe when he realizes she’s not going to finish it herself. “You can say it, Zo. None of our lives is normal.”

Zoe shrugs, smiling sheepishly. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t change what we have right now. Maybe we could be better, but this,” She says, gesturing towards her painting his nails, “is the most normal we’ve been in years. I wouldn’t change that.”

Connor nods in agreement. He doesn’t have an argument.

His eyes stay fixed on Zoe, her tongue poking out slightly as she works on his pinky finger. She gives it a moment to dry before gesturing for him to turn over so she can get to his other hand when she realizes he really doesn’t want to sit up and have her paint them normally.

“You’re being ridiculous. If you would just sit up your arm wouldn’t be twisted like that.”

“I’m _depressed_ , Zoe,” Connor retorts, and Zoe’s never been so grateful to have Connor not looking at her when she rolls her eyes.

“You’ve had a mostly good day. You’re just tired from therapy.”

“But I have depression.”

“Fair enough,” Zoe concedes, realizing this argument wasn’t going to go anywhere.

She paints the rest of his nails quietly, only stopping when there’s a knock on her door. She moves to look, but Connor doesn’t make any effort to look and see who it was.

Zoe thinks he knows who it is.

“Dinner is almost ready. The two of you need to clean up and come down please,” Cynthia smiles, both kids nodding.

Connor forces himself to sit up, thanking Zoe for his nails before rubbing at his eyes, sliding off her bed and walking out the door without a word to his mom.

“Zoe,” Cynthia says quietly, watching her daughter shove her nail polish back into her drawer, humming a response that lets her mother know she’s listening. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

Zoe looks up, eyebrows furrowing. “For what?”

Cynthia smiles, crossing her arms over her chest. Zoe feels oddly uncomfortable. “For being so patient and helpful with your brother over the last few months.”

And, right, her mother was just being sentimental. “He’s my brother, Mom. I just wish I would’ve helped him like this years ago.”

Cynthia nods, and Zoe knows she feels exactly the same way. “I know this isn’t easy, Zoe. I know seeing him struggle and have so many bad days isn’t easy, but you’re right there for him. You’ve been the one person he’s always wanted, you know. And I know it’s tough to know that some days it feels like there’s no escape, but you’re being so patient and kind and understanding of it all. It means so much to your father and me, but I know it means so much more to Connor.”

Zoe nods, standing up and running her fingers through her knotty hair. “If I have to see him struggle to help him get better, then I’m going to do it. Even when he’s being mopey and rude and annoying,” She smiles, opening her arms for her mother to hug her.

“I love you, sweetheart,” Cynthia whispers, feeling Zoe nod against her shoulder.

It’s the most relaxed Cynthia has felt in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i felt like we all needed a little bonding moment that wasn't because connor was like...in pain or having a bad day or something :)
> 
> thank you for all the love you guys have been leaving this lately, it honestly means so much that you guys are liking this story :)
> 
> feel free to come talk to me on tumblr if you'd like :) for-f0rever.tumblr.com
> 
> more on friday! :)


	26. twenty six.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where it's the Christmas season and Zoe and Connor make more progress

Connor had always loved the holiday season.

It had been the one part of the year where he didn’t feel like his depression was suffocating him. On more than one occasion he would leave the house angrier than ever before only to slip into town and look at the Christmas lights lining the streets, snow crunching underneath his boots as he slid the zipper of his jacket up further towards his chin, letting the cold air hit his face.

It helped calm him down, help him realize he was alive and somehow it would all be okay, even when it didn’t feel like it would be.

The first snowfall of the season had always been his favorite. The way the air was quiet and still, the snow falling in blankets against the dead grass. It was the most magical thing for Connor, who had never really stopped being in love with the change that Winter would bring to their town.

Cynthia really shouldn’t have been surprised when she walks in from running out to the store before the storm got bad to find Connor sat on the sofa by the front window, watching the snow fall quietly across their front yard. He doesn’t notice her walking back in the house, hanging up her jacket and setting her wet boots by the front door on the towel she had set out before the kids had gotten home from school that day.

Winter colds had set in for both Connor and Zoe, and as Cynthia enters the living room she can hear the stuffiness in Connor’s breathing, frowning. “You’ve always loved doing this,” She says quietly, Connor’s head snapping to look in his mother’s direction. “From the minute you could pull yourself up on the sofa you would spend your winters here watching the snow. Do you remember?” She asks, sitting herself on the opposite end of the sofa.

Connor nods, pulling the blanket further around him as he leans his head against the top of the sofa. “It helps my anxiety I think. Watching the snow fall,” He says, and Cynthia can understand that.

She wonders if that’s why he’s loved it all these years, but this is the first year he’s had the courage to admit that.

There's a moment where Cynthia forgets everything about the last few months. She forgets about the hospital stay, the hundreds of therapy appointments and bouts of relapses they had gone through. For a moment she looks at Connor staring out the window and sees that little 8 year old boy who was so full of life, and everything just feels like it did so many years ago.

But then Connor turns to her, eyes glassy and face pale, both faint and dark purple scars lining his wrists peeking out from underneath the sleeves of his sweatshirt, and she remembers.

She remembers those first few nights in the hospital after his third suicide attempt, where he had been mostly unconscious and in a world of pain. She remembers holding his hand, promising him she’s not going to let it get this bad again, and how he didn’t trust her.

But the last few months have showed progress and hope, and going into this holiday season Cynthia isn’t fearful of Connor not feeling loved or happy through it all, but she’s looking forward to seeing that innocence back in his eyes.

“Is it going to snow all night?” Connor asks, breaking Cynthia’s train of thought as she looks back at him, smiling.

“It is. Almost a foot of snow through the night. I’m sure you guys will be off from school tomorrow,” She smiles, and Connor nods.

Connor’s cough breaks the silence, and sighing Cynthia reaches forward to rest the back of her hand against his forehead. “Dad gave me medicine already,” Connor mumbles, not fighting his mother’s worrying. “He even googled if I could have it with all my other meds. He asked me if I had taken the medicine before since I’ve been home and if I got sick from mixing them all together.”

There’s a smile on Connor’s face, one that Cynthia hasn’t seen from her son when they’re talking about Larry. “How do you think he’s doing lately? You know, since you two talked about things.”

Connor sighs, shifting to get more comfortable. “It’s…nice,” Connor concedes after a moment, nodding. “He’s been awful for the last few years, Mom,” He says, and Cynthia only nods. She doesn’t want to believe it, but she knows what her son is saying is true. “But the last few weeks he’s been more patient. Like he’s almost trying to understand how I feel and why I feel this way.”

There’s a pause, but Cynthia doesn’t think Connor’s done talking. “I don’t think even a month ago he would’ve bothered to look up if I can have cold medicine with my other meds. He would’ve just waited for you to come home,” Connor laughs, blinking rapidly.

Cynthia knows he’s trying not to cry.

“You’re right, I don’t think he would have either,” She whispers, reaching out to run her fingers through his long hair. “But he is trying, and I think it’s only going to get better from here.”

Connor nods, closing his eyes at the soft touch from his mother. He turns his head to go back to looking at the snow when she pulls away, letting out a congested breath.

“I’m going to go check on your sister and then get dinner started. I’m thinking soup?” She asks, and Connor just nods. “Maybe try to rest, baby. You’ll feel better if you take a nap.”

“Gonna watch the snow,” He murmurs, flinching when Cynthia’s lips press against the top of his head.

Cynthia leaves the room feeling much more hopeful than she ever has before.

The holiday season seems to be starting off right.

—

With both kids full of soup and cold medicine Larry decides to bring in the tree he and Cynthia had gotten the weekend prior, setting it up by the fireplace in the corner. Connor stays huddled on the sofa mostly out of the way, but Zoe takes it upon herself to bring up the boxes of lights and ornaments they can put on the tree.

“I feel worse than you, you could at least come help me carry up the last few boxes,” Zoe mumbles when she looks at her brother, Connor sighing dramatically as he stands up from the sofa to follow her back down to the storage room in the basement.

“Do you think we’ll have school tomorrow?” Zoe asks, looking back at her brother when they reach the top of the steps, Connor balancing the box of ornaments against his side as he shuts the light off.

“Does it matter? I don’t think Mom is going to make you go since you’re sick, and I can win her over to let me stay home, too,” Connor smirks, Zoe rolling her eyes as she nods.

She knows Connor is right.

Stringing the lights turns into an adventure for Larry and Cynthia, earning laughs from both Connor and Zoe as they watch from afar. More than a few curse words are thrown about, but eventually the tree is illuminated with bright white lights, and immediately Connor and Zoe open the boxes of ornaments to begin hanging them on the tree.

Larry glances at Cynthia, his expression saying everything his words won’t. This is the first time Connor has helped them decorate the tree in years.

It’s the best present they could’ve asked for.

“I remember when you made that one,” Cynthia smiles at Connor when he holds up an old ornament that looked like it was falling apart. “You were so proud of it, you came running home from the bus stop with it in your hand, and you couldn’t wait to hang it up on the tree.”

Connor rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face. “This is awful,” He says, hearing everyone in the room laugh.

“It’s adorable, Con. You were 6 when you made that,” Cynthia reminds him, Connor nodding. “If you keep digging, you’ll find Zoe’s from when she was 6,” She smiles, and this time it’s Zoe’s turn to groan.

The family spends hours decorating the tree, and for a moment everything feels perfect. Cynthia stashes a million memories in her mind, wanting to remember this good day when they’re in the thick of another bad day that’s inevitably coming soon. Because for a moment Connor is showing glimpses of that little boy that had been there all those years ago.

As part of their tradition the family curls up on the sofas in the living room and watches _It’s A Wonderful Life_ with the Christmas lights from the tree and the garland on the mantle lighting the room. They had been doing this from the time Connor and Zoe were just old enough to understand what was going on, and it had quickly become the one thing that they never left behind in their sea of traditions around Christmas.

It was the one tradition Connor had never let go of either.

Connor lays on the sofa with Cynthia, bundled in the blanket as his head rests against her shoulder. She notices him looking out the window watching the snow continue to fall, lit by the light on the front porch. For a moment he looks so full of hope, full of innocence and light and it fills Cynthia with emotions that she doesn’t want to have, not right now.

Because right now her little boy is having one of the best days he’s had in months, and she doesn’t want anything to replace that. She doesn’t want anyone or anything to push this Connor away from her, not in that moment when he was the happiest she thinks he’s been in years.

She rubs his arm, her lips ghosting against the top of his head. He doesn’t react, but he doesn’t fight it either.

It’s just feels nice.

—

Zoe can’t sleep.

She isn’t sure if it’s the fever that’s most definitely settled in since she came up to bed after the movie or the excitement of the first snowfall of the season happening just outside her window, but sleep isn’t coming easy for her.  
She thinks about watching another movie or turning on a TV show that will lull her to sleep. She thinks about reading, letting herself get lost in a story that she can doze off to. But none of that seems fun, and so reluctantly she pulls her aching bones out of bed, quietly opening her door setting out for the bathroom.

She could see a light in Connor’s room, hovering in the doorway when she notices that he’s still awake. “Can you not sleep either?” She whispers, Connor looking over at her. His face is only lit from his phone screen, but Zoe can tell that he has bags under his eyes, like he too should be sleeping but he can’t.

He sighs, letting his phone fall onto the mattress as he nods. “My meds are fucking with me again, and I can’t breathe out of my nose.”

Zoe nods, leaning against the doorframe and stifling a yawn. “Did you want to come watch a Christmas movie with me in my room?” She offers, wondering if maybe it would help both of them fall asleep.

She’s surprised when Connor agrees.

Wrapping the blanket around himself Connor slides out of bed, following his sister down the hall and into her room. He still feels slightly out of place being in there, but he doesn’t say anything.

He’s willing to try anything to get him to sleep.

Zoe has a window seat in her room, and despite the draft coming in from the window Connor curls up against the excessive amounts of pillows on it, making himself comfortable.

“We can share my bed. I don’t mind,” Zoe whispers when she turns back around after setting her TV up, but Connor only shakes his head.

She knows it’s not that easy for them to just be like they were before all of this.

She chose _Elf_ , hitting play and turning the volume down so they didn’t wake up their parents from their sleep. Zoe feels slightly awkward with Connor so far away, but she finds his congested breathing a source of comfort in some odd way, reminding her that she wasn’t alone, that Connor was still here and still fighting, and they were getting better.

“What do you want for Christmas?” Zoe asks when they’re halfway through the movie, briefly wondering if Connor had fallen asleep.

“Dunno,” He mumbles, voice muffled by the blanket he had pulled around him.

Zoe doesn’t have the heart to tell him that sitting that close to the window is probably making him feel worse.

Connor doesn’t want to admit that he hadn’t thought about what he wanted for Christmas because he thought he would’ve been dead by now.

There’s silence in the room once more, because Zoe doesn’t know that 2 in the morning is the right time to force a conversation with her brother who probably hasn’t slept properly in days. “What if we got matching tattoos?” He suggests, laughing when Zoe chokes on the water she had taken a sip of.

“Matching tattoos?”

Connor shrugs, shifting uncomfortably to sit up more. “I don’t know, are we not there yet?” He asks, not surprised when Zoe doesn’t say anything. “You’ve always said you wanted a tattoo, right? And I’ve always wanted one, but you’ve been helping me so much and I thought it would be cool if we had matching tattoos. You know, like siblings ones?”

There’s a pause and a congested cough from Connor. “You can say no, you know. I’m too tired to freak out and scare you right now.”

Zoe can’t help but laugh. She wonders when him joking about his mental illness became something he was okay with.

“I think that sounds cool,” She finally says, turning to look at Connor, who’s eyes are fixed on the movie. “What would we get though?”

Connor sighs, pulling the blanket further around him. “I don’t know. We haven’t really been that close the last few years, we don’t really have anything in common.”

That hurts Zoe more than she thought it would.

Silence falls back between the two of them, and Zoe picks at the edges of her nails methodically. “We could get a paper airplane? Or a four leaf clover?” She suggests, fearing looking back at her brother. “I don’t know, we used to love doing things like that when we were little at the orchard,” Zoe says, the room seeming to freeze.

They don’t talk about the orchard anymore, for obvious reasons. “Or we could get nothing related to that. I know um, I know that’s not a place we want to think about.”

Connor nods, his head buried in the pillows he hadn’t bothered to clear away. “I like those ideas, though,” He whispers, and for a moment Zoe can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Like yeah we did those things there, but it doesn’t have to relate back to um… to the orchard.”

“So we can find a place tomorrow and talk to Mom? She’s going to have to sign the release forms since we’re both underage,” Zoe reminds him.

Connor nods, but he doesn’t say anything. Somehow that feels okay.

“Hey, what’s going on in here?” Both kids heads snap to Zoe’s doorway, where Cynthia stands readjusting her robe. “Is everything okay? It’s late.”

Zoe nods, sitting up and running her fingers through her hair. “It’s late and neither of us could sleep,” She says, glancing at Connor. “I asked him if he wanted to watch a Christmas movie with me.”

Zoe thinks Cynthia is trying to look disappointed, but the expression on her face is anything but that. She walks in, feeling Zoe’s forehead before moving across the room to feel Connor’s, sighing. Zoe thinks about pausing the movie, but doesn’t.

She thinks Connor would get mad about that.

“Both of you have fevers, you need to get some rest. Come on, baby, back to your own bed where you can be comfortable,” She says softly, patting Connor’s shoulder.

Zoe’s surprised when Connor doesn’t protest, but instead just mumbles a goodnight to Zoe while following Cynthia back across the room. “Get some sleep, baby. I love you. I’ll see you in the morning,” Cynthia smiles as she hovers in Zoe’s doorway, shutting the door behind her when Zoe mumbles a goodnight in return.

Walking across the hall Cynthia makes her way into Connor’s room, fixing the blanket so his feet were covered. “Think you can fall asleep?” She asks, reaching out to rub his back.

Connor wants to protest, but he doesn’t.

“I don’t know,” He just says quietly, burying his head in his blanket to try to muffle his cough. “I can’t breathe out of my nose, but also my meds are making it hard to sleep again.”

Cynthia's hand stops rubbing his back, and Connor can practically feel her frown staring back at him. “How long has this been going on?” She asks, to which Connor knows he can’t answer.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been.

“A few weeks, I guess? I’m not really sure, I haven’t really thought about.”

“Did you talk to Dr. James about it?”

Connor shakes his head.

Cynthia sighs, running her fingers through Connor’s hair. “You need to tell him. There may be something we can do to help,” She says, but Connor only nods.

Cynthia doesn’t leave right away, watching her son’s eyes open and close, his coughs filling the room. Her hands stay folded in her lap, and for a moment she doesn’t know what to do. They’ve had such a good day, but now it’s 2 in the morning and neither of her children feel well and she’s doing everything she can to help them, but it’s not enough.

“I think Zoe and I are getting better,” Connor says, his voice raspy as he rolls over to look up at her. “I’m not as angry with her anymore. I um, I can hold my anger about things she does that annoys me.”

Cynthia smiles, nodding. “I think you guys are doing better, too,” She says, her fingers lightly massaging Connor’s scalp. “Things are looking up, baby. You’re working hard in therapy, your managing your bad days the best that you can. I think this holiday season is going to be the best for you in a very long time,” She smiles, trying not to cry.

Connor just nods, but his eyes close under her touch, and she watches him doze off the way she did so many times when he was little.

She stays in his room a little while longer, praying that her hopes and wishes for this holiday season being the best yet comes true. She wants that for herself and her family, but more than anything she wants it for Connor. She wants Connor to have those good days and be able to see how much progress he’s made, and she won’t stop at anything to make sure he has that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another long chapter but yes to zoe and connor bonding better than they have before! :)
> 
> thank you for reading/leaving comments/kudos :)
> 
> you can talk to me on tumblr if you want! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> more on tuesday!


	27. twenty seven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Connor and Zoe get matching tattoos, and things feel okay.

Zoe and Connor wake up to a mound of snow and no school just before the Christmas vacation, but they’re still full of cold and Cynthia knows they would’ve both been home with her that day anyway. She tries to think of fun snow day plans that they can do inside like they did when they were much younger, but then she remembers that they’re both teenagers and not feeling well, and they’re probably not going to want to do anything that she wants them to do with her.

“Zoe and I want to get matching tattoos.”

Zoe chokes on her cereal when Connor says that so nonchalantly, as if he was asking for his meds like he does on most mornings.

Cynthia looks just as surprised, glancing between both of her children. Zoe wonders if she’s trying to decide if Connor is high.

“Zoe, is this true?” She finally asks, and Zoe looks like a deer in the headlights as she nods.

Swallowing the bite of cereal she had in her mouth Zoe takes a deep breath, glancing at Connor. “We were talking about it last night. We thought that’s what we would give each other for Christmas, but we can’t get them without you or Dad signing off for them since we’re both under 18.”

“Dad’s not going to sign for them,” Connor laughs, taking another bite of his breakfast. “He probably won’t even agree with them.”

Zoe doesn’t think Cynthia is going to go for it either.

The kitchen is silent for a moment, the only sound being from the spoons hitting the ceramic bowls and the sniffling and coughing from the two still sick-filled kids, but Cynthia doesn’t seem mad or upset about what Connor had brought up.

Zoe still wanted to kill him for doing it without warning.

“What did you want to get?”

“A paper airplane,” Connor interjects, and Zoe wonders how long he had been thinking about the options they had come up with the night before. “You know, because Zoe and I used to fly those airplanes at the orchard when we were little?”

Cynthia nods. Zoe and Connor share a glance, wondering if she was going to cry over something this small.

“If I sign off for this, the two of you are paying for all of it, you’re taking care of them without my help, and you’re helping me out around the house with things we need to get done before family is here for Christmas,” She begins, both kids nodding quickly. “Connor, you won’t fight your meds or therapy sessions.”

“I’m not promising that,” Connor says quickly, Zoe’s shoulders falling. “Mom, you know I can’t control that. You know I’m still working on all of that. I can’t just magically fix it.”

Connor wonders when she got such an unrealistic expectation of how he’s recovering.

Cynthia nods, throwing her hands up in protest. “Fine, we’ll leave that one out,” She says, which makes Connor relax slightly.

Silence falls over the three of them one more time, and reluctantly Zoe looks back up. “So are you saying yes?” She asks, a smile tugging at Cynthia’s lips.

“I’m saying yes,” She breathes out, and Connor leans across the table to high five his sister. 

Cynthia laughs at the two of them, walking to get Connor’s meds out of the cabinet she hid them in, bringing the cold medicine over with her.

Things feel almost normal. Things feel okay.

It’s all she’s ever wanted.

—

After days of research and finding the perfect place and design to have their tattoos done, Zoe and Connor make their way into the city with Cynthia, armed with a drawing and their money to pay for them. Zoe would be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous, but she had been putting on a brave face in front of Connor.

She thinks he knows she’s terrified.

“Where are you getting yours again?” Zoe asks, walking alongside her brother with Cynthia just behind them.

Connor shrugs, twisting his sleeve around his arm. “I thought we’d both get them on our wrists, but um, I don’t know if I can,” He says quietly, Cynthia frowning when she hears him.

“I’ve seen tattoos over scars before. I think they could probably do it,” Zoe shrugs, and Connor just nods.

He doesn’t really want to talk about this in public.

The tattoo parlor is empty, and Zoe takes it upon herself to walk up and tell the woman sitting at the front desk that they were here. They had booked their appointment online, and after a few moments and a few signed release forms from Cynthia, they were allowed to come back and get ready.

“I’m going to go get some things from the store down the street, call me if you need anything,” Cynthia smiles, both kids nodding as they watch her walk out of the tattoo parlor, leaving the siblings alone once more.

Zoe offers to go first, sitting down in the chair while the man who had introduced himself as Nick gets the transfer ready. “Do you have any tattoos?” He asks, which Zoe thinks is ridiculous when he knows how old she is.

She shakes her head anyway. “This is my first one,” She says quietly, and Nick smiles and nods.

He seems nice, Zoe thinks, which is the complete opposite of what she would’ve thought if she saw him in passing. He was a big guy, covered in tattoos with a facial expression that looked like he was mad at anyone. Zoe was intimidated to say the least, but when he introduced himself and smiled at both her and Connor, she knew he was nicer than he looked.

Nick works silently on Zoe’s wrist after she picks where she wants it, and Zoe glances at Connor to see him staring at the whole process. “You’ve probably read what tattoos feel like, and the wrist can be a pretty sensitive area. You need to hold still while I’m doing it so it doesn’t get messed up,” Nick says, getting the needle ready after Zoe approves the stencil. “You ready?" He asks, and Zoe takes a deep breath, nodding.

She holds her free hand out, looking at her brother. “Will you hold my hand?” She asks quietly.

Connor laughs, reaching out his own hand and taking his sister’s in his. Her palms are sweaty, and Connor almost tells her to not go through with it if she doesn't want to. But the needle presses to her skin before he has a chance, and Zoe squeezes his hand and grimaces, but doesn’t move her wrist.

“This shouldn’t take me long at all,” Nick promises, but Zoe doesn’t care. She want it to be done now, wants the pain to stop and wonders how she’s going to make it through the whole thing without flinching.

“It’s going to look so cool,” Connor whispers, which he doesn’t think makes Zoe feel any better. “Can you believe Mom said yes?”

Zoe laughs, shaking her head. She knows her brother is trying to distract her, but right now it’s working. She doesn’t care that it seems awkward or forced.

“I never thought she’d agree,” Zoe whispers, glancing over at what Nick is doing before turning back to her brother. “Especially without telling Dad.”

Connor nods, shifting in his seat. His hand doesn’t leave Zoe’s.

It doesn’t take much longer before Nick pulls back, wiping off the last of the ink. “You’re all done. What do you think?” He asks, both Zoe and Connor going to look at her wrist, an angry red, but with a new paper airplane tattoo just on the inside.

“It’s so cool,” She whispers, Nick laughing as he begins cleaning everything up to get ready for Connor’s turn. “Thank you so much.”

Nick nods, handing her a paper. “This is how you take care of the tattoo. Just make sure you follow all of these directions so it heals properly and doesn’t fade,” He says, Zoe thanking him again as she slid out of the chair to switch places with Connor.

Connor seems nervous now, but Zoe knows it’s not because he’s scared of the pain.

It’s because of what he’s going to have to reveal on his wrists.

For a moment Zoe thinks about telling Connor to get it done on his other wrist, but then she remembers that he has scars on both. Scars of pain, scars that he felt he needed to give himself to feel anything at all. It still makes her heart break slightly when she thinks about it.

“I um, I have scars on my wrists. Can the tattoo um, can it go over them?” Connor asks quietly. Zoe can’t remember the last time he ever sounded this timid.

Nick doesn’t seem phased at all, but he turns back and nods. “I’ve tattooed over scars before. It may be a little more sensitive than non-scarred skin, but it’s doable,” He says, and Zoe sees Connor visibly relax.

He pulls his sleeve up, and for the first time Zoe stares at the scars lining her brother’s wrist. He’s getting it done on the opposite arm from his suicide attempt, meaning Zoe had never really thought to look there. Now she sees the faint white lines lining around his wrist, just enough to know that he had been doing this for years.

She wants to apologize, but she doesn’t know why. So she keeps her mouth shut, and while Nick places the stencil over one of Connor’s scars she holds her hand out, letting Connor take hers the same way she took his.

“Same thing as your sister, don’t move around or it’ll get messed up. I’m assuming it’s your first one, too?” Nick asks, and Connor nods quickly.

He likes that Nick doesn’t warn him when he’s going to start. It doesn’t hurt initially, but when Nick gets to where his scar is he instinctively squeezes Zoe’s hand a little harder, wincing. “Sorry,” He whispers, Zoe just shaking her head.

She can’t even begin to imagine how that feels.

Nick is done faster than Zoe thinks hers went, and the two of them go through the instructions one more time before going up to the front to pay, setting back out onto the brisk streets to find Cynthia after texting her.

“Let me see!” Cynthia says when she meets up with them, the two of them pulling the sleeves of their coats up to reveal the saran wrapped tattoos, just barely able to make out the paper airplane. “They look good, guys! Should we go get some lunch and then get home?”

Both kids nod, and Cynthia follows them down the streets towards their favorite diner they used to come to for special occasions.

So many things had changed in the last months, and while Cynthia still isn’t sure letting her underage children get tattoos was a good idea, she sees how happy they are, and she knows that it was the right thing to do.

—

Zoe can’t remember the last time she was excited to show Evan something. So much of the past few months had been filled with worries about her brother and working on the organization that she doesn’t remember the last time she and Evan just hung out alone and didn’t think about any of that.

It’s a nice change to be going to his house just to spend time with him, she thinks. She hopes this is the start of it happening more often.

“You’ll never believe what Connor and I did today,” Zoe begins, greeting Evan with a kiss before she hangs up her jacket by the front entryway. He shakes his head, leading her towards the kitchen where Heidi had been finishing dinner up for the three of them.

Zoe rolls up the sleeve of her sweater, revealing the small paper airplane tattoo on the inside of her wrist. “We got matching ones!” She exclaims, Evan’s eyes widening as he takes Zoe’s hand in his, looking at the tattoo a little better.

“Your parents said yes?” Evan asks, looking back up at her and smiling.

“Yeah!” She smiles, rolling her sleeve back down. “Well, my mom did,” She smirks, rolling her eyes. “Our dad doesn’t actually know yet. Connor and I are bracing ourselves for when he finds out.”

Heidi turns around, and Zoe rolls her sleeve back up to show the tattoo to her. She smiles, browning the meat for tacos a little further before grabbing plates out for the three of them. “Why a paper airplane?” She asks, Evan looking back at his girlfriend in wonder too.

“When Connor and I were little we used to go to the um, the orchard,” Zoe says, swallowing the lump in her throat. “He had this toy airplane we used to fly all the time together, until our dad crashed it into the lake accidentally and lost it forever,” She laughs. “The orchard isn’t really a place either of us want to go now obviously, but we loved flying airplanes and making paper airplanes, and so we decided to get it,” She shrugs, and Heidi nods.

Zoe doesn’t even mind the sympathetic smile Heidi and Evan both give her in return.

They eat dinner and talk about school and the holidays, which Zoe thinks is nice considering Evan is Jewish. Christmas holidays don’t really mean much to him, but recently Zoe has been doing everything she can to learn about Hanukkah, and even offers to exchange gifts over Hanukkah instead. Evan declines, but they eventually come to a compromise of meeting in between Hanukkah and Christmas to give gifts.

“We have two weeks off to lay around and do nothing together,” Zoe mumbles, her head resting against Evan’s shoulder as he turns on a movie for the two of them. “No school, no work, just us.”

Evan nods, humming a response as he settles on a movie, reaching out to hold Zoe’s hand. “Are we going to see each other every day?” He asks, looking at Zoe as she pulls her head up to look at him. “Like um, I don’t know,” He shakes his head quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. “I want to spend time with you, you know? Away from everything.”

Zoe nods, she feels the same way. “I want to, yeah. I mean obviously there’s like, days I can’t because I need to be with family, but you and I need to hang out without working on any of the organization stuff or schoolwork.”

Evan nods, but he’s more just glad that Zoe seems to agree with him.

They fall back into a silence, Zoe lazily kissing his cheek before resting against him again. His fingers run across her new tattoo, memorizing the way her skin feels all over again with this new ink that seems to mean so much to her.

Evan can’t begin to understand what Zoe’s going through. He doesn’t have siblings, at least not ones that he knows all that well. He doesn’t know what it’s like to watch a sibling hurt so much that they feel the need to take their own lives.

What he does know is that Zoe has been through a lot. Not just as a sister, but as a human. She’s been working so hard at so many things over the last few months, that all he can think about is making sure that this break is relaxing for her. He doesn’t want to think about the organization or schoolwork that they always seem to be doing together.

He just wants to think about Zoe, and more importantly he wants to make sure that she has the Christmas and the break that she deserves, even if some things in her life won’t be able to change in that short amount of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more healing Murphy siblings content :) obviously not everything is smooth sailing, but it's progress!
> 
> thank you for all the reads/comments/kudos you guys leave on this :) they make my day honestly.
> 
> feel free to come talk to me on tumblr if you want! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> more on Friday!


	28. twenty eight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Connor has a bad day and he and Larry make progress.

The thing about depression Connor finds is that it doesn’t matter what season it is, or if the holidays had always been his favorite. There were always bad days, and days that Connor can’t control or stop from happening. He had learned how to deal with them better, but he was still having trouble with coping with it all, and that’s where he knew he had to lean on his family.

Leaning on the family was a lot easier said than done for him, and although Cynthia would always be around when he was having a bad day, making him eat something and checking on him constantly, he found that more suffocating than anything. He knows she means well, and for the most part he’s able to not lash out at her, tell her to go away and to just leave him alone, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t think it. It doesn’t mean he wishes she would just take a step back from it all.

Spending all day in bed seems to be the best option for Connor on days like these, but when he hears Zoe come home from Evan’s and she doesn’t stop by to see how he’s doing, it hurts him a little bit. For some reason Zoe seemed to be the only person in his family that he could stand checking up on him, but he’ll never understand why he feels that way, especially when he had been awful to her for years.

The sun has long since set and the only light illuminating Connor’s room is from the moon reflecting off the snow on the roof, but Connor hasn’t left his bedroom except to go to the bathroom. There’s a half eaten sandwich on his nightstand that his mom had brought up around lunch, and an empty water bottle buried somewhere in the sheets that he had lost hours ago.

He sits up, pushing his hand through his greasy hair and squeezing his eyes shut when he’s overcome with dizziness. He knows he needs to go downstairs and eat something, but when he glances at his phone and realizes he’s most likely missed dinner, he doesn’t know what he’s going to have.

He thinks he can hear his mom in her bedroom, and despite the fact that it’s below freezing and most people are huddled by the fire, he’s almost positive his dad is in the garage like always. Connor doesn’t even know what he does out there, all he knows is that he started frequenting the garage more often when Connor started slipping away years ago.

The habit hadn’t left.

Shakily Connor swings his legs over the side of the bed, planting his bare feet firmly against the cold hardwood. He thinks about grabbing socks, but the effort required to turn around and find them isn’t worth it. So instead he stands up, letting his shaky legs adjust to holding his weight before he takes slow and quiet steps, not wanting Zoe or his mom to know that he was up and out of bed.

He knows it’ll just make them hover.

After slowly making his way down the steps Connor sets out for the kitchen, grabbing something to eat before anything else. He doesn’t have an appetite, but knows he needs to get something in his stomach. He’s just hoping that it stops making him feel slightly nauseous.

After setting out the crackers on the island he turns to the cabinet to reach for a glass for something to drink, his hand shaking slightly.

He flinches as the glass slips from the shelf and crashes against the granite countertop, cutting his hand in the process. He’s frozen in place, watching the blood drip from his hand onto the counter, little bits of glass stuck in and around it.

“Connor? Are you okay?” His head snaps around to see Zoe in the doorway of the kitchen, Cynthia’s steps heard coming quickly from afar.

Connor’s eyes widen, looking back at his hand before back to the counter, shaking his head quickly. “I didn’t…I wasn’t…I…” He stutters, looking back to his sister with wide eyes. Zoe’s face softens, but before she can make any moves to help him Cynthia’s rushing in, her face full of concern.

“Oh, Connor,” She sighs, looking at the counter before moving back to his hand, noticing the blood. She immediately grabs for a kitchen towel, but Connor just shakes his head again, his free hand resting against the counter.

“I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t…I wasn’t trying to um, to hurt myself,” Connor says faintly, his glassy eyes meeting Cynthia’s. She frowns, nodding as she pushes away little flecks of glass that she could see before pressing the kitchen towel to stop the bleeding.

“I know you weren’t, sweetheart,” She says, but Connor feels like she’s just saying that to be nice. “Just take a deep breath.”

Connor does so, inhaling and exhaling so rapidly that his mother has to tell him to slow down. “Accidents happen, Connor. I don’t think this one was intentional.”

Connor nods, letting his mother lead him over to sit down at the island. She asks Zoe to hold the towel to his hand while she gets the first aid kit, and Zoe does as she’s told.

“I wasn't trying to hurt myself, I promise,” He mumbles, his voice shaking.

Zoe nods, apologizing quietly when Connor winces when she moves her hand holding the towel. “I know you weren’t, Connor. Bad days don’t mean you want to hurt yourself all the time.”

“I do want to hurt myself,” Connor whispers, praying his parents don’t walk back in as he says this. “All day I’ve been trying to sleep off the feeling of wanting to hurt myself, Zoe. But now I really did hurt myself and it didn’t even help.”

Zoe frowns, and she desperately wants to hug Connor tightly. But she knows that’s the opposite of what he wants right now, and so she doesn’t. She just continues holding the towel desperately to his cut, whispering some sort of apology that she’s almost positive falls on deaf ears.

Cynthia returns, and Zoe takes to cleaning up the glass that’s now shattered on the countertop, wiping away his blood next to the broken glass as she listens to her mother calm Connor down. She doesn’t think she’ll ever be that comforting to Connor, but most days she wonders if Connor even wants her to be the way that she is.

After he’s sufficiently bandaged and Cynthia declares that he doesn’t need stitches Connor takes the drink Zoe had poured for him and the snack upstairs, leaving just Zoe and Cynthia in the kitchen.

“He’s going to be fine,” Zoe says, Cynthia smiling softly at her words. She wonders when her daughter felt like she had to comfort her.

“I know,” Cynthia says softly, putting the first aid kit back together. “It’s just hard seeing my son like this, sweetheart. Especially when I know there’s not much I can do for him,” She sighs, looking back to her daughter. “I’d be the same way if this was you. I am the same way when you’re upset or sick.”

Zoe nods, because she knows that. But this is different, and even though Cynthia won’t say it, Zoe knows that Connor being upset or sick worries her more. They had come so close to losing him three times, and she doesn’t want a bad day to cause them to lose him for real this time.

Zoe finishes cleaning everything up before making her way back upstairs, glancing into Connor’s room. He’s laying down again, but the crackers lay open on his nightstand and some of his drink is gone, so she figures that’s a success.

Her mind doesn’t stop wandering to thoughts of her brother for the rest of the night, no matter what she tries to do.

—

Connor’s phone reads close to 11, and while he really should just go back to sleep and hope that he wakes up feeling better, he doesn’t think he can. He’s been cooped up in his room all day, and while he would rather sneak out and find some weed to smoke, he figures maybe fresh air would do the trick.

At least he hopes it does.

Quietly Connor makes his way back downstairs, tiptoeing as lightly as he can in an attempt not to alert Zoe or his mom that he’s out of bed. Walking to the front door he pulls on his boots and a jacket, making his way back out to open the door to the deck, his feet firmly planted on the snow that was still lingering around.

There isn’t much light, but the cold air feels good on his face, makes him feel more alive than he’s felt in what feels like days. He could stay out there for the rest of the night, letting his fingertips go numb and his nose turn bright red if it meant that he would feel better.

He didn’t know what else to do at this point.

Connor is so engrossed in watching the silent Winter night in front of him that he doesn’t notice that the back door had opened and someone had come out with him until Larry stands next to him against the banister.

“What are you doing out here?” He asks quietly, glancing at his watch before pulling his jacket closer to himself. “It’s getting late, you should be asleep.”

Connor feels so much younger than 17 when his dad says that. “Can’t sleep. Thought maybe fresh air would help,” He mumbles in reply, shoving his hands into his pocket.  
The two of them stand in silence for a moment, and Connor really wishes he could just be alone. He doesn’t say anything though, instead just watching the snow fall from the branches every few minutes out in their backyard.

“Mom said you haven’t had a good day,” Larry says, Connor sighing as he shrugs.

“It hasn’t been great,” He finally admits, although he feels like that doesn’t do how he’s felt justice. He mostly just wonders how his dad didn’t notice himself.

“I know I don’t understand a lot of what’s going on with you,” Larry begins. Connor balls his hand into a fist in his pocket. “But Connor, you’ve been making so much progress and I know that you’ll grow stronger from this day too.”

Connor’s silent for a moment. He knows his dad doesn’t really know what to say to him — he never has — but he’s trying. Connor thinks he can give him at least that. He doesn’t think a few weeks ago his dad would’ve done half of what he’s doing right now.

So he nods, leaning forward to rest against the banister. “I just don’t understand why the medicine doesn’t always work. Like, I know it’s not a miracle cure and it doesn’t just make me better, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like it’s doing anything.”

Larry laughs, which catches Connor so off guard that he snaps his head to look over at him. “Connor, I don’t have any argument about your medication. I’m…I’m still coming to terms with all of that, you know. I don’t understand why it doesn’t work, but I will say that this medication seems to be the one that is the most beneficial out of everything else we’ve tried.”

Connor wishes he could just melt along with the snow. He doesn’t think having this conversation with his dad is going to get anywhere. He didn’t understand the medications, he probably never would, and Connor had come to terms with that. He’s mostly just glad that he’s not refusing the medications for Connor anymore. That’s a huge step.

“So, you and Zoe got tattoos?” Larry says after a moment, and Connor thinks he can feel his heart stop. “I saw Zoe’s. She knows I know.”

Connor swallows harshly, reminding himself to breathe a million times in his brain as he forces himself to look at his dad. “We um, we didn’t really know how to tell you? I’m sorry, are you mad? You’re probably mad, right? That we like all went behind your back and got tattoos and mom signed off on them, and —“

“Connor,” Larry smiles, cutting off his son’s rambling. “I’m not mad.”

Connor’s caught off guard. “Oh,” He says bleakly, looking back at his dad. “You’re not?”

Larry shakes his head. “I mean, I’m a little upset you guys didn’t just tell me about them before you got them, but they’re small and they mean a lot to the two of you, and I think they’re nice. You and Zoe have come a long way and you deserve to have something that means a lot to the both of you,” Larry says, watching his son as he nods.

Connor looks over, showing him his tattoo quickly as Larry nods. “I like them. I like that that’s a memory the two of you want to remember forever,” Larry laughs. Connor should’ve expected it, really, because Larry really was the reason that they had the memory in the first place.

There’s a silence over the two of them, but it’s not at all awkward and Connor stares back out at the backyard as if something was going to change if he just kept staring.

“Do you remember when you were little, and you and I would have catches out here before dinner?” Larry asks, breaking the silence that had fallen between the two of them.

“I hated those,” Connor says bluntly, surprised when Larry laughs.

“I know,” He nods, reaching out to lightly pat Connor’s arm. There’s another silence between them, one that Connor doesn’t necessarily think is a bad thing.

Larry takes a moment, watching his son from the corner of his eye. So much has changed over the last few years and Larry feels like he missed it all, which he knows his his fault. He knows he could’ve been there, he could’ve been right along his wife helping Connor get the help he needed, but he did the opposite. And while he felt like maybe he was doing the right thing back then, he knows he wasn’t. He knows there was a million other things he could’ve done.

He turns his head back to look at the backyard again, immediately transported back 10 years. “I remember I used to catch you and Zoe climbing the tree so many times. You’d let her climb on your back so she could get up, and then you’d jump up after,” Larry smiles, wondering if this is even helping any. “Your mom was always afraid one of you was going to break a bone, so she sent me to get you guys. I always thought you knew what you were doing.”

He swears he hears Connor laugh, and he can see him nod from the corner of his eye. “All we wanted to do was to sit on that branch and look at the Johnson’s backyard. Which is stupid because it’s the same exact yard as ours,” Connor confesses. It amuses Larry more than he thought it would. “But then we started playing superheroes, and we always used to dare each other to jump from the branch. Obviously we never did it, but we would’ve definitely broken our legs.”

“And your mother would’ve had the tree cut down the following day,” Larry adds in, Connor smiling as he nods. “She wanted to for so long, but I always told her that it wasn’t fair. Maybe we could get you guys to stop climbing the tree, but I knew we wouldn’t. You guys loved it too much and would’ve rather been punished than listen to us telling you to stop climbing it.”

Connor nods, noticing Larry looking at his watch again. “We should probably get back inside. It’s getting late and it’s cold out. You’re going to get sick again if you stay out here this long,” He says, and Connor nods. He’s surprised about how much better he feels, and reluctantly he follows his dad back into the house, stomping the snow out of his boots before walking to the front door to hang everything up.

“Con,” Larry says when Connor moves to go back upstairs. Connor turns around, and Larry takes a step forward, taking Connor’s face in his hands. Connor flinches, but doesn’t pull away. “I love you,” Larry breathes, catching Connor off guard as his breath catches in his throat. “I don’t say it to you at all, and I should. But I promise you you’re not alone in this, and even though today wasn’t a good day doesn’t mean tomorrow won’t be better. I believe in you, I know you can fight through this.” He takes another deep breath, sighing. “I’ve done so many things wrong the last few years, but that stops now. I’m going to be better, just like I’ve been trying.”

Connor nods, forming some sort of thank you that doesn’t even sound like English. He thinks that Larry understands him anyway.

“Go get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning,” Larry says quietly, and Connor nods, turning back to make his way back upstairs.

Zoe walks out of the bathroom as Connor reaches the top of the steps, pausing when she sees him looking a little spaced out. “You good?” She asks, surprising Connor as he looks up at her, shrugging.

“Dad and I um…talked,” Connor says quietly. “I’m fine,” He nods, mumbling some sort of goodnight before brushing past Zoe and back into his bedroom.

Larry pokes his head into Zoe’s room to say goodnight, and Zoe thinks about asking him what had happened between him and Connor. She doesn’t though, but instead waits until his footsteps disappear down the hall and their bedroom door close before she goes back to reading her book for English class.

Cynthia looks up from her own book when Larry walks in, furrowing her eyebrows when she notices his flushed cheeks. “Were you outside?” She asks, watching him get ready for bed as he glances back at the bed towards his wife.

He nods, changing into his pajama pants. “Connor was out on the deck. He said he needed fresh air, so I figured I would go see if he was okay. He was, by the way. Just thought he needed some fresh air to feel a little better since he couldn’t sleep. He’s in bed now.” Cynthia looks at her husband, wondering if there was more to this story. If she should go check on her son.

Larry finishes getting ready for bed, brushing his teeth before walking back in and climbing into his side of the bed. “I told him I loved him,” He says numbly, staring at the wall straight ahead. “For the first time in at least 5 years, I told my son I loved him.”

Cynthia tries to pretend she doesn’t see the tears in her husband’s eyes. But she has tears in her own eyes, and she leaves her book untouched on her lap and reaches over to rest her hand on top of his.

“He needed to hear that, I guarantee it,” She whispers, her voice wobbly as she struggles not to cry. “I promise you that means more to him than you think it does. And it’ll get easier every single time you say it.”

Larry nods, leaning over to kiss her before shutting off his light.

Cynthia lays in bed awake for a while, thinking about her husband and what he had told their son that night.

There are so many days where she wonders if they’re doing anything right, but tonight solidifies it. It’s not just Connor getting better, it’s all of them. It’s more than she’s ever expected and everything she could’ve hoped for.

It feels okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay progress! although connor isn't doing great, there's better days for him and Larry :)
> 
> thank you for reading/commenting/leaving kudos! :)
> 
> feel free to come talk to me on tumblr if you'd like :) for-f0rever.tumblr.com
> 
> more on tuesday!


	29. twenty nine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Zoe talks with her friends, and the Murphy's go to family therapy.

Zoe sits around Jared’s living room along with Evan and Alana, the three of them spending the start of Winter break with a movie marathon that included all of the holiday movies they could think of. Jared had picked the most obnoxious ones, declaring that he couldn’t think of one Hanukkah movie and so this is what they were going with.

Zoe had tried to get Connor to come with her, promising him that it would be fine and they were only going to watch movies, but he had declined. He was drained from his first few weeks back at school, and when given the opportunity to lay around in his bed reading without having to worry about work, he was going to take it.

She can’t blame him.

When Jared’s choice movie ends Zoe sits up and looks around the room, knowing that this was her chance. “So, I know that Evan goes to therapy, but do either of you? I um, sorry that might sound invasive,” Zoe says quickly, shaking her head. She knows there has to be a better way to go about this, but at the end of the day she doesn’t think she can form any coherent thoughts or sentences in this moment.

Alana looks over at Zoe in concern, sighing. “I’ve been before, but I don’t go regularly anymore. I only really book sessions when things get stressful or if I feel myself getting worse,” She shrugs. Zoe wonders if there’s ever a point where Alana isn’t stressed.

“I’ve never been,” Jared speaks up, looking between the three of them. “I mean, maybe I should? But I’ve never brought it up to anyone and so I’ve just never gone,” He sighs, but Zoe thinks she understands. Sometimes she wonders if she would benefit from therapy, even though she’s not sure her dad would understand why she wants to go to.

Nodding, Zoe takes a deep breath and looking back at the three of them. “Connor has a therapy session tomorrow instead of today, but all of us are going. It’s a family therapy session while we’re going into the holidays,” She says quietly, folding her hands together. “I just didn’t really know what to expect, and I know Connor isn’t going to give me much about what to expect either. I mean, I went to one therapy session with him, but I don’t think I can count that. We mostly just talked about our relationship.”

The three nod, but it’s Evan who speaks up first. “I think um, I think that’ll help Connor a lot,” He says quietly, reaching out to take Zoe’s hand. Zoe nods, squeezing gently. It tells Evan everything he needs to know about how Zoe feels about it. “Like, the holidays are hard for me sometimes? So I uh, I guess it’ll be hard for him too,” Evan says, taking a deep breath.

“I think it’ll go well. I mean, it’ll probably be hard for Connor having all of you there, but I do think it’ll benefit him. It’ll probably go better than you think it will. You’re just worried about everything that he could say or do,” Alana says, a thought out answer that seems so dead-on it scares Zoe.

She thanks her quietly, quickly changing the subject to watching move movies before talking about going to family therapy makes her even more anxious.

—

Connor’s sitting on his bed, enveloped in another book when Zoe gets home. She doesn’t know how someone can read so much, at least not without a break of some time away from it. She notices that he’s been reading the same book for weeks, the edges tattered and writing in the margins. Zoe wonders how many times he’s gone through all of this, how much he’s read it and memorized the words popping off the page.

“Hey,” She breaks the silence, Connor looking up from his book. “Can we talk for a little?” She asks, surprised when Connor nods. He folds the top of the page down in his book, and for a moment Zoe wonders if it’s just going to break off by the amount of times he seems to have done this before.

“What are you reading?” She asks, sitting on the edge of the bed. Connor looks confused for a moment, sighing as he holds the book up for Zoe to read.

“ _The Little Prince_ ,” He says out loud as if Zoe can’t read it herself, letting the book fall next to him on the bed. “It’s my favorite.”

Zoe nods, and she thinks about reaching out to read what it’s about. She stops herself though, and takes a deep breath when she looks back at Connor, who’s picking at the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “How do you feel about all of us coming to therapy tomorrow?” She asks, catching him off guard as he looks back at her in surprise.

It takes a moment before he finally shrugs, sighing. “I know it’ll be good for me, you know? Especially because we’re going to Grandma’s for Christmas and the last time we were with family it didn’t go well, but like, I’m nervous,” He admits, which Zoe can understand. She doesn’t think she’d like people intruding on therapy sessions either.

"I think it’s going to help all of us, you know,” She says quietly picking at his bedding. “Like you obviously need the therapy and everything and that’s not going to stop, but maybe it’d be good for Mom and Dad and I to have a therapy session with you to talk about everything.”

Connor’s silent for a moment, his hand hovering over his book. Zoe knows he wants to read, and so awkwardly she pats his leg and tells him she’s going in her room until dinner. He nods, his eyes staying fixed on his lap as he feels Zoe stand up and begin to leave the room.

“Do you ever wish you went to therapy?” He asks quietly, causing Zoe to stop and look back at him. “I don’t know like… do you ever wish that you had someone to talk to when I was threatening to kill you?”

Zoe bites her lip until she tastes blood, looking back at him. She doesn’t want to upset him, doesn’t want to make him think about the past that now seems so far away. But she doesn’t know how else they’re going to heal if they don’t talk about it.

“Yeah,” She admits, leaning against the doorframe and crossing her arms. “I know you’re a little better now, and you haven’t threatened anything that bad in months, but sometimes it’s hard being your sister.” Connor deflates at that, and Zoe immediately wonders if there was a better way she could’ve said that.

“I love you, and I know I’ve told you a million times that I never stopped loving you, but sometimes I feared for my life. I stopped bringing friends here because I didn’t know what kind of mood you’d be in, I hid everything about my life from you except for Evan, who you didn’t seem to even care or notice. Connor, it’s not easy being your little sister sometimes, because I don’t know what to do for you, and I don’t always know what Connor is waking up that morning.”

There’s a deafening silence, and Zoe would be lying if she said she hadn’t been bracing herself for things to be thrown at her after what she said. “I love you, Connor, and I know you hate to hear it, but I’m so proud of how far you’ve come. Now I want you to be around my friends, I want to help you through the bad days, and make stupid jokes with you on the good days like we did when we were little. It’s taken a lot of time to work up to this, but that support and love I have for you is only getting stronger.”

“You’re finally becoming that brother that I remember, and it means everything to me.”

Zoe tries to pretend like she’s not crying. Connor just shakes his head, but Zoe knows there’s tears in his eyes as well.

“‘m sorry for everything I’ve ever put you through,” Connor mumbles, his voice low and shaky.

“You need to stop apologizing for that, Con,” She whispers, walking back in and sitting on the edge of his bed, closer to him this time.

“But I really am sorry. I don’t even know how you can stand to look at me, let alone try to help be part of my recovery. You’re so much better than I could ever be.”

Zoe smiles at Connor when he looks up, his eyes glassy as his bottom lip wobbles. “I know you’re sorry,” Zoe whispers, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry, too. For how I ignored you in the past and acted like you were the worst person to come into my life. You’re not, I promise,” She says, Connor nodding.

“Think Colin Harris might be,” He mumbles, both of them laughing at that.

Zoe waits a minute before standing up again, leaving the room this time for real.

Any attempts at relaxing and watching a movie are all but squashed, her mind constantly running back to Connor and their conversation.

—

Connor looks around the room before therapy begins, immediately feeling uncomfortable.

Larry is sitting stiff as a board in the chair opposite Cynthia, who seems relaxed. Connor notices the pack of tissues in her hand, and wonders how long he’ll make it in there if she just cries the whole time.

Zoe sits on the sofa with him, cross-legged and seeming the most comfortable of the three of them. Connor guesses it’s because she had done a therapy session with him, but this one feels wildly different, and Connor’s anxiety skyrockets when he thinks about his dad lashing out, or his mother just crying about how different he is now that he’s actually cooperating and has a good therapist who understands.

It’s all too much for him to think about.

Before he has a chance to form any other thoughts Dr. James walks back in the room, smiling and shaking both Cynthia and Larry’s hands before sitting down in his seat. “I know this session may not be easy for you, Connor, but I do think it’s beneficial,” He begins, which only makes Connor more uncomfortable.

“Connor, can you tell me what you want to get out of this?” He asks, Connor picking at the hair tie on his wrist.

He doesn’t know what to say. This therapy session wasn’t his idea, and if he could, he’d definitely want to kick everyone out and just suffer through the therapy session himself. He knows he can’t, and so desperately he tries to form some sort of coherent thought in his brain that’s going to make sense to Dr. James and the rest of his family.

“I just want my family to see that I need more help when we’re around extended family,” He finally breathes out, shaking his leg out of nervousness. “Thanksgiving was really hard for me, and I had a lot of negative thoughts. I don’t want that to happen this time especially because we won’t be home, but I don’t want my family to look down on me if I need a break.”

The room is silent, and Connor can’t bring himself to look up. He can feel their eyes on him, boring into him as if he’s going to be set off by the few minutes of conversation they’ve already had.

He hates that they still think that.

He can ear a conversation between Dr. James and his parents, but the voices are muffled and Connor can feel his anxiety getting worse. He thinks his breathing is erratic, and when Zoe reaches over to rest her hand on his arm he jumps and flinches away, his head snapping towards her.

“Breathe,” Zoe whispers, which really doesn’t help at all. He can’t calm down, he can’t think of any coping techniques, and maybe that’s the worst part of it all. He’s spent months in therapy, and now when he needs to remember anything he’s been taught he can’t.

“I haven’t been the best parent in all of this, I’m sure Connor has told you,” Larry begins, and Connor suddenly feels like he can feel everything. Every little sound in the room is suddenly in his brain, and subconsciously he rubs at his arms over his sweatshirt.

“We’ve been working on things, doing our best to get better and repair our relationship, but it hasn’t been easy. There have been moments where I haven’t understood what’s going on with him, but that has nothing to do with anything he’s doing.”

Connor bites his lip until the blood spills into his mouth, tears springing to his eyes. He doesn’t think he can keep doing this, but he feels frozen. Like if he tried to stand up and take a step he would fall flat on his face.

It’s the worst feeling in the world.

“Connor, buddy, can you come back to us?” Dr. James asks, Connor’s eyes snapping up to look at him. He tries to listen, tries to focus on his breathing, but it’s not working. “Deep breathing, Connor. In for 7, hold for 3, out for 5,” Dr. James’ voice is even, and somehow Connor manages to listen, calming himself down.

His leg still shakes out of nervousness.

“What are your fears for Christmas?” Dr. James asks after giving him a few moments to calm down.

Connor think about it for a moment, sighing. “I guess I’m just worried that my family is going to be disappointed when I’m not normal in front of extended family, or when everything just gets to be too much. At Thanksgiving some of our family made little remarks about my recovery or how I kept picking at my sleeves and being withdrawn, and I had to go up to my room for the rest of the night because of how I felt. I don’t want that to happen again, but I’m scared that it will,” He says quickly, finally forcing himself to look up.

He swears Larry looks upset. He hates that he doesn’t know if he’s upset with him or about his fears.

“I can talk to the family about keeping comments to themselves and just being a support system for Connor. He needs to know that we’re there for him, and that although the recovery process may not be what they thought it would be, it’s beneficial for him and it’s working,” Cynthia speaks up, glancing at her son and giving him a soft smile.

Dr. James nods, writing a few things down and looking at the rest of the family.

“We’ll be away from home this year, so if there’s anything that he needs or if he needs to get away, I’d be more than willing to do that. My main concern is keeping him safe and in the right frame of mind, which I know is a lot easier said than done, especially coming from me,” Larry says, Connor chewing on the inside of his lip.

Zoe takes a deep breath, glancing at Connor before looking back at the rest of the room. “I was the one who went to check on Connor last time, and I don’t want to see him like that,” She says quietly, feeling everyone’s eyes on her.

She wonders if this is how Connor feels all of the time.

“Christmas used to be his favorite time of year, and I know that’s been taken from him the last few years, but I want this to be the year that changes things. I don’t know if there’s anything that I can say to family members that won’t come off as disrespectful, but I can be there for him when it gets to be too much,” She says, which somehow makes Connor feel better.

He feels like the therapy session drags on, there’s a million more questions about Connor’s general recovery and how the family is coping with all of the changes, but his anxiety is heightened and he doesn’t know what to do to get himself to just calm down and listen.

He can feel everyone get up around him, can hear the muffled thank you’s and a promise to book more family therapy sessions in the future, but Connor doesn’t move. Zoe lingers in the doorway waiting for her brother, her parents up talking with the receptionist while Dr. James sat down on the coffee table in front of Connor.

“I know that wasn’t easy, and I could tell that you wished it was just you and I in there,” He begins, Zoe wondering if she should step out. “But you did well, Connor. I know you don’t feel like you did well, but when I asked you questions you managed to answer them, which is a big step.”

Connor nods, folding his hands together. “I just don’t want to let them down,” He whispers, and for the first time in a long time Zoe’s heart breaks. She never heard her brother say anything like that, and she wonders how long he’s been thinking about that in a way that she can’t comprehend.

“Connor, I think as long as you’re doing your best and you’re open with how you’re feeling, everything will be okay. They want to help you, and your goal for the next week or so is to let them in. Be completely and candidly honest with them on your feelings. It’s hard, I know, and I know you feel like you can’t do it. But you can, Connor. I really believe that you can.”

Connor nods quickly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand before he stands up, taking shaky steps to where Zoe is standing.

“You okay?” She asks, Connor immediately nodding. She knows he’s lying. “We’ll get through this,” She whispers, following him out of the office as he sighs, nodding again.

“Don’t let me isolate myself,” He mumbles as they trail behind their parents back to the car, looking down at his younger sister. He knows that he shouldn’t put this pressure on her, he shouldn’t expect her to just have that kind of burden on her shoulders.

She’s just the only one he can manage to take when he’s feeling overwhelmed.

“Of course,” Zoe whispers, walking around the car to climb into the back seat beside her brother. “I’ll be right there.”

Christmas music plays on the radio softly, and cautiously Connor reaches over, resting his hand on top of Zoe’s. His mind is still swirling, his heart still feels like it’s skipping out of his chest and his breathing is slightly erratic, but Zoe seems to be able to center him.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever understand why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading/commenting/being so lovely all the time :) it honestly makes me so happy to see that other people are liking this :)
> 
> i posted a new little one-shot the other day if you'd like to read it :) i'm planning on posting two more in a little series with it hopefully this week/maybe early next week!
> 
> you can find me on tumblr! for-f0rever.tumblr.com 
> 
> more of this story on friday! thank you for reading :)


	30. thirty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Zoe and Evan exchange gifts and the Murphy's leave for Christmas.

Hanukkah is over by the time Zoe has a chance to exchange gifts with Evan, but Evan insists that it’s fine, that it’s probably best that they just do it in between Christmas and Hanukkah anyway so that it’s fair.

Zoe has trouble shopping for Evan. There isn’t much that she can think of that he would love, and so she agonizes for hours in the mall, her mother gently urging her to decide on something that he would like so they could get home and out of the holiday shopping traffic.

She isn’t sure he’s even going to like what she ended up getting him.

The two of them plan to exchange gifts at Evan’s house, his mom working late so the two of them would be alone. Zoe knows that packing for their short trip to their grandparents still needs to happen, but right now she just wants to be with Evan. She wants to be away from the chaos, and with the boy who makes her happy throughout all of this.

“I didn't really know what to get you,” She confesses, sitting cross-legged on the sofa across from Evan. “You’re not easy to shop for, you know.”

Evan laughs, nodding quickly. “It’s um, it’s okay. Y-you weren’t easy to get anything for either,” He retorts, although Zoe thinks he’s had a marginally easier time finding something for her than she did for him.

He goes first, pulling the tissue paper out with such ease that it almost drives Zoe crazy. Her heart is pounding out of her chest, watching him pull the book that she had chosen for him out of the bag.

“A national parks book?” He says, Zoe feeling herself blush. “This…this is amazing, babe,” He says, relief washing over her.

“There’s a few other little things in the bag that I found around and thought you would like, but I know last time we had to go to the book store you were eyeing that and I thought maybe you’d want it? You know?” She says, Evan nodding quickly.

He awkwardly hands over his gift to her, Zoe smiling as she peels through the tissue paper much faster than he had. There’s a necklace and a pair of earrings that she already knows she’s going to wear to Christmas, but what intrigues her more is the small black notebook, nestled in the bottom.

“It’s um, it’s a journal?” Evan says quickly, looking up at him. “I-I think sometimes writing things down makes me feel better. And maybe it would help you, too?” He says, suddenly speaking as if he had just given the stupidest gift in the world.

Zoe’s smile only gets wider, reaching over to kiss him abruptly. “I love this, thank you,” She whispers, pressing her lips to his again.

Evan’s arms wrap around her middle, and for a moment their gifts are long forgotten about. It’s just them alone in this house together, and nothing else really matters.

Zoe settles against Evan, their gifts resting on the table as she thinks about starting to head out. “You’re coming home Christmas night?” Evan asks idly, his fingers lightly brushing up and down Zoe’s arms.

Zoe nods, sighing. “Yeah. Just hope Connor makes it that long.”

She doesn’t mean to make it awkward, but she knows it does. Nothing she ever says about Connor won’t make this awkward.

Evan nods, unsure of what to say. He feels that leaving a kiss on top of her head does more than enough.

For Zoe, it does. Knowing he’s there is enough.

—

Connor lays on his bed pathetically, wondering if there’s a way he can get out of going away for a few days. It goes against everything they had talked about with Dr. James, but right now he doesn’t care. The thought of being in his grandparents house surrounded by family is enough to make his skin crawl.

He can’t go through another Thanksgiving.

“Baby, come on. I need you to pack so we’re ready to go in the morning. You know how your father gets,” Cynthia sighs, standing in the doorway of Connor’s room.

He makes no attempts to move, not that she’s surprised.

“Connor, honey, are you okay?” She asks after a moment, walking in and sitting on the desk chair. He’s staring at his ceiling, his breathing slow and steady as his hands ball in and out of fists. She doesn’t know what she needs to do to help him, doesn’t know what’s even wrong, and if he won’t talk she’s afraid she’s just going to have to leave him alone.

She doesn’t want to do that, no matter how much he pushes her away.

“My anxiety is so bad,” Connor finally admits, his voice low and distant. His eyes don’t move to look at her, and after a moment she wonders if he’s counting the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling they hadn’t taken down.

She frowns, carefully moving the desk chair slightly closer to the end of the bed. “Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want me to leave you alone?”

The room is silent again, and Cynthia is willing to sit in that chair for as long as it takes for Connor to answer her. Minutes that feel like hours pass, and after a moment Cynthia stands up, rubbing Connor’s hand before turning to leave. “You can call me or come into my room if you need me. I’m going to go finish packing.”

“I’m afraid about being around the family,” Connor blurts out just after she’s out the door, Cynthia turning on her heels quickly to walk back into his room.

“Connor —“

“I’m afraid that I’m going to freak out or yell at someone, and they’re all going to wonder how someone so fucked up could be a part of their family.”

Cynthia ignores the language she hates, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Connor, no one is going to think that,” She begins, but she has a hard time believing that herself. Thanksgiving was a disaster by her means, and she worries that maybe going to Christmas isn’t the best idea for him. “I promise you, it’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine, and we’re going to make it through this and make the most of the Christmas holidays.”

“But I don’t want to just make the most of it,” Connor sighs, throwing his head back further into his pillows. “I want to have a good Christmas. Where I don’t freak out and I’m just…I’m just happy. You and Dad deserve that. Zoe deserves that. But I know I can’t give you that.”

Cynthia shakes her head, and against her better judgment she reaches out and takes Connor’s hand. “Connor, you are trying your best, and that’s giving us more than enough,” She says, wondering how annoyed Connor is by the same speech she seems to give every time. “I know you’re worried about the holiday and family time, but if you need to go be alone you’re more than welcome to, okay? Don’t listen to what Grandma says or what Dad says, I’ll deal with it. Your mental health is the most important part of all of this.”

Connor nods, but he really doesn’t feel any better. “I um…if it’s really bad can you and I go out? Even like…for a little.”

There’s a smile on Cynthia’s face, and if she knew Connor wouldn’t get annoyed and tell her she’s being ridiculous she’d be crying. “Of course we can, sweetheart. I want you to talk to one of us if you don’t feel safe or if you feel like you need to get away from everyone else, okay?”

Connor nods, slowly sitting up. “I’m going to pack,” He says quietly, Cynthia nodding. She leans forward, kissing his forehead and ignoring the rolling of his eyes, standing up.

“Dinner will be ready soon. I’m going to finish packing as well, but when you’re ready come downstairs,” She says, Connor nodding as he stands up and moves around his room, finding clean clothes to bring with him.

It’s a step in the right direction, Cynthia thinks and one that she’s grateful for.

She has faith that this trip is going to be okay.

—

Connor has always felt sick on car rides, but he know this time he feels sick for a completely different reason.

He doesn’t hate going to his grandparents, not in the slightest. In fact, when he thinks about the times where he was just so blissfully happy as a child, it’s often associated with memories of being at his grandparent’s house.

He knows their extended family means well. They don’t have a great way of going about it, but they’re trying to be positive for his sake. It doesn’t work now that he’s older and knows what the pitying looks mean or why they always seem to just not be able to bring it up, but he tries to remind himself that they ask and they pry because they’re worried, and they want him to be okay.

His head vibrates as it rests on the window, giving him a slight headache. The coolness from the frigid air outside makes him feel slightly better, but all he wants is out of the car, and preferably in his own bed at home.

He’s now two days away from that happening.

Zoe has her earbuds in, her phone resting in her lap. She picks it up and texts someone every so often, but Connor never asks who it is. He always just assumes it’s Evan.

Maybe one of the most surprising things for Connor since his suicide attempt is how much he thinks he’s missed. He’s no longer doing drugs, and while his mind does wander to how much easier this all would be if he would just be allowed to smoke a blunt every once in a while, he doesn’t think he’d trade that for how withdrawn he was back then, and how much he seems to have just ignored during those times.

Zoe is happy with Evan, Connor finds. In so many ways, the way Zoe is around Evan is the way Connor wishes she was around him. He knows he’s her brother, they have a different relationship than she would with her boyfriend, but most times he misses the way he and Zoe used to be.

He tries closing his eyes, wondering if getting some sleep will just make the reminiscing stop, make the sick feeling in his stomach go away, and making the anxiety just settle down. But he’s restless, and the music his parents have on at a minimum volume feels like too much in his ears, too much crowding his brain.

He subconsciously scratches at his arms. Zoe reaches over and stops him.

“Calm down. Breathe,” She whispers so quietly that her parents don’t hear them, which somehow begins to calm Connor down. Not only is he panicking, but the sheer thought of his mother knowing and spending the rest of the car ride being overbearing is far too much for him to deal with right now.

He grips Zoe’s hand far tighter than he should have, loosening his grip when he sees her wince. His head falls back against the headrest, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath.

Zoe keeps careful eyes on her brother, leaving her hand resting on the middle seat even when he lets go. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t have to. She knows Connor is anxious and nervous about the next few days. She knows he’s scared something is going to happen, or he’s going to lash out.

She hates that they’re taking him out of his environment, but she’s also aware it was going to have to happen eventually. She has faith that Connor will be okay. That his meds will work, he’ll reach out if he’s having a hard time, and somehow they’ll get through it with as little drama as possible.

Connor doesn’t reach for her anymore throughout the car ride, which she thinks is okay. He seems better, and maybe that’s a good sign for the rest of the trip.

—

The family of four settles into the guest room Cynthia’s parent’s house, Zoe offering to take the blow up mattress while Connor gets the pull-out sofa and their parents get the bed. It’s the first time the kids haven’t fought about who was taking which bed, which alone feels like a victory that Cynthia was hoping for over the next few days.

Larry and Zoe had gone back downstairs in search of food, and as much as Cynthia knows she should have joined them, she looks back to Connor, who’s sitting on his newly made bed fumbling with his phone. He doesn’t look upset, Cynthia decides, but she also has learned that he’s good at hiding his emotions when he wants to.

“Did you want to come get something to eat, sweetheart? Dinner will probably be ready soon, but you have to be hungry. You barely touched your breakfast.”

Connor looks up from his phone, shrugging as he shoves it into his coat pocket. “I am, but everyone is here already, and I’m mentally preparing myself for them asking questions about school and how I’m feeling.”

Cynthia’s grateful he's being honest.

She walks over, sitting on the bed next to her son. Without thinking she takes his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing against his cheeks. He doesn’t pull away. “We talked about this, baby. If you need to step out for some air you know you can. I told Grandma to make sure everyone knew that you didn’t want to be bombarded with questions, but sometimes family doesn’t listen.”

Connor groans, his head slipping out of Cynthia’s light grasp and falling back dramatically. “I don’t want everyone to walk on eggshells around me either!”

Cynthia sighs, folding her hands in her lap. “Connor, breathe,” She says patiently, watching her son as he finally listens to her. “No one is going to walk on eggshells around you,” She reminds him, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “Sweetheart, they have not been through everything we have with you. They don’t know how to go about talking to you, or asking you how you are. They don’t know what makes you upset because they haven’t been there every single day. They care about you because they love you, and that’s not going to change. That’s what I need you to remember.”

Connor’s head falls to look at his lap, but he nods in understanding. He _does_ get that, he does understand that his mom’s family do what they think is best, but it’s hard. It’s hard to think that they’re not just prying to hear about how fucked up he still is.

Which he’s _not_ , he knows he’s not. He’s in a much better place than where he was at the beginning of the school year.

But that doesn’t make it any easier.

“I think you need something to eat, and then if you’re still feeling overwhelmed you can come back up here and take a nap. I’ll tell them you have a headache or something.”

Connor nods. Okay, he can live with that. His mom is willing to cover for him, and so he feels like he can do this.

He begrudgingly follows her down the steps, and before they’ve even reached the bottom he can hear the loud conversations in the kitchen. Cynthia turns back to look at him as if he’s a child, beckoning him down the steps. He doesn’t want to upset her, not when he knows she’s trying so hard to make him feel comfortable with all of this, and so reluctantly he forces his legs to move, following her into the kitchen.

“There he is!” His Uncle Mark smiles, walking over to kiss Cynthia on the cheek, his hand clapping against Connor’s shoulder. “How are you doing?”

Connor swallows the words he desperately wants to say. “Fine,” Connor says quickly, praying they would just leave him alone.

“How is school going? You’ve been back a few weeks now, right?” His Aunt Caroline asks, smiling when he walks over to take some crackers from the center of the island where various food is laid out.

He nods, and for a moment his eyes catch Zoe’s. She gives him a look that says she’d get him out of this if she could, but there’s nothing she can say that would stop them from asking questions, or from making him feel even more uncomfortable than he already is.

“It’s fine. I mostly just hang out with Zoe and her friends,” He manages to say, tuning out the rest of the idle conversation around him.

He thinks someone else asks him a question, but right now he can’t focus on any of that. He just needs some space, some time to breathe and figure out how he’s going to make it through the next few days.

He just hopes his family are there for him as much as they say they’re going to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is Christmas! so just Murphy family content :)
> 
> thank you for reading/commenting/leaving kudos :) honestly they're all so nice and make my day i love it <3
> 
> you can find me on tumblr if you'd like! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> more on tuesday!


	31. thirty one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where it's finally Christmas!

Christmas morning is the one day that Zoe finds she still gets excited for.

She's even more excited when she wakes up and sees that it's snowing, light flurries falling from the bright grey sky just outside the guest room window, above where Connor is sleeping.

No one else is awake, and so quietly Zoe gets off the air mattress, holding her breath when it creaks underneath her, but doesn't wake anyone up. She walks over to the opposite side of the sofa bed that Connor is laying on, peering out the window.

“What are you doing?” Connor whispers, apologizing softly when he notices he’s scared Zoe. She’s sat on her knees, her elbows resting against the top of the sofa as she lazily watches the snow fall.

“It’s snowing,” She whispers, Connor rubbing at his eyes before he too sits up, watching the snow with his sister. “It’s not much, but it’s snowing on Christmas.”

Connor nods, yawning as he continues to rub at his eyes. Zoe knows he's slept more than any of them, but he still looks exhausted, like the dark bags under his eyes are just never going to go away at this point.

She wonders if sleep is still hard for him.

“Merry Christmas, Connor,” Zoe whispers, reaching her free hand out to rub at his shoulder.

She feels oddly nostalgic in that moment, looking over at her brother. She’d by lying if she said she hadn’t been thinking about what this day would’ve been like had he died, because that’s all her thoughts could be the last few weeks.

She tries not to think about losing her brother, for obvious reasons. But there are moments where she looks at him and is just so overwhelmed with the thought of how he feels, how he doesn’t want to be alive, doesn’t want to keep making memories like these.

She knows the holidays would’ve been the hardest part of all that. She doesn’t think their mom would’ve survived them, if she’s honest. Connor always loved Christmas, and if Cynthia would’ve had to endure the holiday season just months after she would’ve buried her little boy, well, Zoe just doesn’t think she would’ve been able to handle that.

“Why do you keep staring at me like that?” Connor’s soft words break her out of her trance, her cheeks flushing immediately.

She doesn’t know if she should be honest.

“This is like…really cliche and gross and you’re going to tell me to shut up,” She begins, turning back to look at the snow again, piling on the tree branch just feet from the window. “But I’m really glad that you’re alive, Connor. Sometimes I like, I think about how I would’ve gotten through the holidays without you. How we all would’ve coped without you here, especially because you’ve always loved Christmas. And I know we wouldn’t have coped well at all and it would’ve been sad, and this sounds like a pity thing, but that’s not how I mean it. I hope you know that, that I mean it differently,” She rambles, pausing to take a breath. “I um, I’m really glad that you’re getting better.”

She can’t bring herself to look at Connor, mostly because she knows he hates when they say things like this. When they… _praise_ him for putting in what he thinks is minimal effort.

But she doesn’t feel like she says it enough.

“Merry Christmas, Zoe,” He says softly, and Zoe pretends like she doesn’t hears his voice wobble like he’s trying to hold back tears. “Thank you for always being there.”

Connor moves to lay back down on the bed, but his head is closer to Zoe now, almost as if he needs to be able to feel even the slightest of movements from her to know that this wasn’t all some lucid dream he was having.

She runs her fingers through his hair after a brief hesitation, and for a moment, Zoe thinks everything is perfect.

—

Connor finds that opening gifts is the most relaxed he’s felt since they’ve arrived. He knows he hasn’t given it much time, that really he’s only had a few interactions with his extended family, but at least when everyone is opening presents no one is really paying attention to him.

He shoves himself in the middle of the sofa between Cynthia and Zoe, his elbows uncomfortably close to touching them constantly. He knows he probably should’ve sat somewhere else where there was more room, but shoving himself in between his mom and sister means no one else can sit next to him.

Which…is rude. Connor knows. But he can’t help it.

His presents are sat on the floor in front of him, waiting to be opened. But for a moment he looks around the room at his little cousins, all shouting about what Santa had brought them and the cool new toys they got.

On most days he would hate the yelling. It’s too much for him, too much commotion, too much for his brain to process. He’d want to run away, need to get out in the fresh air where everything was quiet and his brain could just…could just settle down and stop thinking so much.

But today it’s different. Today is arguably the one day of the year that he never could bring himself to hate, because his mom had always gone through the effort to make Christmas so magical for him and Zoe growing up. Today he doesn’t let the screaming agitate him so much, because he remembers being the same way when he was their age — so _happy_ , so excited about all the toys and presents and the magic of Santa.

He doesn’t want to take that away from his cousins.

He finally begins working on his own presents, which are small but meaningful. Connor knows he’s not easy to shop for. He wears the same things practically every day, but he’s grateful when he sees a new hoodie and some jeans in two of the boxes. He got a new pair of boots as well, which he figures one day he’ll wear. At least when the ones he lives in finally fall apart.

There are pajamas and other little things in the final box, but just when he thinks he’s done Zoe’s shoving a bag into his hands, smiling at him softly.

“I know you didn’t get me anything. I wasn’t going to get you anything either, but I saw this when I was finding something for Evan and figured you’d like it,” She shrugs, nodding as if to tell him to just open it.

Cynthia watches from the other side, lightly tapping Larry’s leg to get him to pay attention to their little family instead of everyone around them.

Connor carefully pulls the tissue paper out, pulling a new copy of _The Little Prince_ out of the bag.

His fingers trace the writing on the front cover, and he finds himself biting the inside of his lip to just _stop_ the tears.

“Zoe…”

“Stop," Zoe says before he can start crying, a smile tugging at her lips. “I just…I noticed how beat up your copy is. And I know that one probably means a lot to you, but like, it’s about to fall apart. When I saw it at the store I figured I’d give you a new one, but obviously I won’t be offended if you want to take it back and get a new book or just like, no book at all?”

Connor shakes his head, letting the book fall into his lap. Without thinking about it Connor leans over and hugs Zoe, the tears blurring his eyes when Zoe’s arms wrap around him.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Connor whispers, rubbing at his eyes furiously. He feels Cynthia’s hand rubbing his back, but for a moment he forgets about the rest of the extended family in the room, all of them distracted by their own gifts to notice the small family of four.

Zoe nods, biting her lip as she looks at her brother. For the first time in months she feels like maybe they’re close, maybe they’re the siblings they’re used to be.

She knows better than to get her hopes up that this will last forever.

“I know I didn’t,” She finally says, taking a shaky breath as she smiles. “But obviously this book means a lot to you, and it might be better if you had a good copy to read through again, you know? I don’t know, maybe it’s silly.”

“It’s not,” Connor says quickly, nodding at her. “I promise, it’s not.”

There’s no other words exchanged between the two of them, but Zoe’s head falls against Connor’s shoulder and he doesn’t ask her to move or to stop crowding him, and that may be the best part of the whole day for Zoe.

Cynthia and Larry watch both of their kids from the side, thankful that they had reached this point. that Connor had made it this far, that they were celebrating Christmas as a family of four when so many times they wondered if this was even possible.

It was the best Christmas gift either of them could’ve received.

—

For as much family interaction as Connor had had that morning, he doesn’t feel awful. He takes his meds upstairs in the guest bedroom with his mom, has a little break from his family, and everything feels okay.

It’s around lunch when he can feel his mood start to change. His younger cousins had spent most of the day yelling about their new toys and playing with them in the living room, and while Connor knows that shouldn’t bother him, it does. It tops off with his family members asking him a million questions about school and asking any other question but anything about his recovery, and it’s just been too much for him.

Cynthia walks into the kitchen at the right time, Connor’s eyes widening as he peers around his aunt to look at his mom.

“Mom, can we go for a walk?” He asks quietly, Cynthia turning around after she pours herself a drink, her smile turning into a frown.

“Of course, baby,” She says softly, taking a sip of her drink. “Go put on some warmer clothes and your shoes and we’ll go when you’re ready.”

Connor does as told, and after putting on his jacket and hat at his mother’s insistence they walk out the front door, off for a walk around the neighborhood with the freshly fallen snow.

“Are you okay? Were they getting to be a bit much?” Cynthia asks, shoving her hands into her pockets in a lame attempt to keep warm.

Connor sighs beside her, nodding. "I just…I felt like I was going to lash out,” He mumbles, biting his lip.

He hates that he feels like that’s being a disappointment to his mom. He hates that he thinks she’s going to be upset or disappointed with him for having bad feelings about his extended family.

“I’m glad you asked to leave then. That you didn’t just walk out or storm off,” She says softly, inching herself closer to her son as they walk down the empty streets of her parents neighborhood.

Cynthia can’t remember the last time she and Connor just took a walk like this.

“I’m trying really hard, Mom,” Connor says softly, sniffling as the cold starts to tinge his nose a shade of pink. “I’m trying to enjoy the family time…to like, to not be so mean or get so agitated with everything around me. But it’s really hard,” He whispers.

Cynthia has never wanted to hold him more. She refrains, telling herself that the middle of the street on a walk isn’t the best place to do it.

“I know you are,” She nods, shuffling her feet through the slush to keep up with her much taller son. “And I know this isn’t easy, but you’re doing really well, sweetheart. We’re leaving tonight, and then you’ll be back home and we’ll go back to our normal routine,” She promises, which really brings more relief to Connor than she could ever imagine.

There’s a silence that falls between the two of them, but it’s nice. Connor doesn’t feel like he has to say anything, and the walk actually seems to be helping him calm down.

“What did you think of Zoe’s gift?” Cynthia asks after a few moments, looking over at her son with a smile on her face.

“She really didn’t have to get me anything,” He insists, Cynthia nodding. “Like, I’ve been an awful brother to her, and we’ve had like…2 months of mostly good interaction, and suddenly she’s buying Christmas gifts for me? I don’t deserve that, Mom, and no matter what anyone says I’ll never believe that I did deserve it.”

Cynthia sighs, mostly because she doesn’t know what to say to that. For the most part, she’s stayed out of his and Zoe’s relationship. She’s let them work it out together, only really stepping in when she knew Zoe couldn’t handle things on her own, or Connor just needed a break.

Which means watching them repair their relationship that had once been so close was even more bittersweet for Cynthia.

“Connor, just because you guys had years of bad times doesn’t mean that you can discredit these last few months. I know they haven’t been the best or really what you even expected, but I also know in my heart that the bad times the two of you have experienced in all of this is shaping both of you so much differently now. You’re on medication that’s working, you’re giving us your best effort almost every single day, and now it’s finally paying off.”

They inch their way closer to the house, and Connor starts dragging his steps, prolonging the inevitable of having to go inside. Cynthia can tell, and she’s right next to him taking slow steps to match his pace.

“I never meant to hurt Zoe the way I did the last few years,” Connor finally says.

Cynthia doesn’t believe him. Connor doesn’t believe himself.

“I mean, maybe I did,” He concedes, Cynthia biting her lip. “But when I told her I wanted to kill her? That wasn’t really me. I never wanted to kill my sister, no matter what I said to her previously.”

“I know,” Cynthia nods, the two of them sitting down on the sofa along the front porch, looking out at the front yard covered in snow. “Connor, your past doesn’t define who you are now. I know it’s really not any easier, that there are still bad days and we’re still probably not doing everything we can for you, but you’re trying. That’s all we can all ask for.”

Connor nods, leaning his head against Cynthia’s shoulder. It’s a gesture she’s longed for for years, and although she’s freezing and would much rather be doing this inside while they wait for dinner to be ready, she’s not going to argue right now. Right now her little boy needs the space from the extended family, he just needs time to breathe, and she’s going to give him that for as long as he wants.

“I thought I could see people sitting out here,” Larry says quietly when he walks out, shutting the front door behind him. “Everything okay?” He asks, Connor lifting his head from his mother’s shoulder.

Cynthia doesn’t miss how nervous he looks.

“The family was just a lot for me to deal with?” Connor says quietly, looking up at his dad, trying to gauge his reaction. “Like, I was trying to be social and trying to answer questions, but I could feel myself getting angrier and I was afraid I was going to lash out, so I asked Mom if we could go on a walk so I could have some space from everyone, but you knew I wasn’t running away or anything.”

The porch is silent for a moment, and Connor braces himself for the inevitable talking to he’s going to get from his father. The same father that just wishes that he was _normal_ , or at least someone who didn’t need to get away from his own family just to feel like he wasn’t going to have to lash out at them to deal with his emotions.

But Larry doesn’t do any of that.

He just crosses his arms over his chest and nods, leaning against the front door. “Are you feeling better now?” He asks, which throws Connor off.

He’s not used to his dad just _caring_ like this. Not this easily.

He shrugs, taking a moment to think about how he feels. “I guess a little, yeah,” He says, looking back up at his dad. “I mean, I think I can make it through the last few hours,” He shrugs, moving to stand up from his place on the sofa outside.

Cynthia, who is a lot more skeptical on how her son is feeling than her husband, follows suit, following both of her boys back into the house, Connor immediately going to sit with Zoe in the living room, watching _Elf_ with their younger cousins.

Zoe makes just enough room for him to squeeze in, looking over at him. “You good?” She whispers, her eyes watching her brother’s every move as if she could tell how he was just from that.

“I’ll be fine,” He replies, sinking further back into the cushions and focusing in on the movie that he had missed the beginning of.

Zoe rubs his leg quickly before pulling away, staying just as close to her brother when she figures he probably needs it.

Cynthia doesn’t stop checking in on Connor while the adults talk in the kitchen, but she decides after the 10th time of checking on him that there’s nothing better than to have him in the living room with all of his cousins, doing something as normal as watching a movie.

It’s a sight Cynthia wondered if she’d ever get to see again.

She’s grateful she does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good things are happening for Connor kind of! :)
> 
> thank you for reading/commenting/leaving kudos as always :)
> 
> you can find me on tumblr if you'd like! for-f0rever.tumblr.com
> 
> more on friday!


	32. thirty two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Alana helps Connor and Evan talks to Connor and Zoe.

If there was one thing that Connor didn’t feel like doing over his break, it was working on science work with Alana. She was nice enough, always willing to help him when he was falling behind after missing so many days of school, but this was winter break, and all he wanted was to just lay in bed until it was far too late and not worry about any schoolwork despite how far behind he knows he is.

“I can’t thank you enough for helping Connor with this, Alana,” Cynthia smiles as the pair sit at the kitchen table. Connor audibly groans. “Con, come on. I’m just saying that it’s nice you have someone willing to help!”

“It’s really not a problem, Mrs. Murphy,” Alana smiles, thanking her quietly for her glass of water. “I know this unit is pretty confusing and Connor missed part of the unit that helps with this one, so it’s nice to be able to help.”

Cynthia nods, thanking her again before excusing herself upstairs for a while, Alana and Connor starting their work on the packet that Connor had been actively avoiding for what felt like weeks.

“How do you just know all of this?” Connor blurts out, looking over at Alana when he finishes filling in one side of the worksheet. “I mean, none of this makes sense to me, but you literally teach this so fast.”

Alana shrugs. “It helped to be there the day we learned it. I mean, I asked a million questions the day we were learning it. I’m pretty sure the class hated me by the end because I didn’t let us move on until I understood it all.”

Connor laughs, falling back into a comfortable silence as he copies her notes, asking questions when he didn’t understand. It was good, he thinks, maybe even normal. He wasn’t ashamed of asking what was happening or how he was going to do something, and Alana answered all his questions and was patient when he gave up a few times, and it was exactly how he thought he should feel about it all.

“You can go hang out with Zoe now if you want. She’s in her room I think,” Connor says when he closes his packet. “She knows you’re here, so it won’t be weird that you’re just randomly standing in her doorway.”

Alana smiles, but seems caught a little off-guard. “I told her I was going to be here. I don’t think she’ll be surprised,” She says, shoving a few things in her own bag. “Did you want to hang out with us? I’m sure Zoe wouldn’t mind.”

Connor smiles, shaking his head. “It’s okay. I just need some time to myself. Maybe later,” He says when he notices that Alana looks a little disappointed, not wanting to like, upset her anymore than he’s upset everyone else.

She looks hopeful at that, grabbing her things and walking upstairs without saying anything else, leaving Connor to be alone, which is all he really wanted after being forced to work with Alana that morning.

—

“What are everyone’s plans for New Years?”

Alana had always been one to plan things day in advance, much to the despair of the rest of the small peer group they had now all found themselves in.

“Nothing,” Jared sighs, falling back against the sofa in Evan’s living room, taking a sip of his soda. “My parents are going out so we’d have free range of the liquor cabinet. It hasn’t been touched in like, 20 years.”

“Okay, probably not, Jared,” Alana quickly refutes, turning her attention to Zoe and Evan. “What about you two? I’m assuming you’ll be together, but were you going to a party or anything?” Alana asks.

Zoe hears Evan laugh. She looks over at him, smiling in his direction when he looks back at her, eyes wide and horrified at the fact that he had laughed at them going to a party. Zoe gestures like she knows that isn’t what he meant, and she swears she sees him relax right in front of her eyes.

“We were probably just going to hang out at my house,” Zoe shrugs, looking back at Alana and Jared. “You guys can come if you want? I’m sure my mom won’t mind if there’s a few extra people there. She loves you guys anyway, definitely more than she loves me,” Zoe teases, the group laughing softly at that.

There’s an agreement that they’ll all hang out, and Alana promises that they’ll all bring food and snacks for them to have since Zoe was allowing everyone to come over.

Zoe tries to pretend like Connor being there isn’t an unpredictable scenario for her to bring her friends into. She feels like since she’s been successful a handful of times, maybe this won’t be any different.

She knows it doesn’t work like that.

They end up watching holiday movies, savoring their last few days before school started back up again. Heidi returns from work in between that and class, smiling at the group that has gathered in her living room.

Zoe wonders if Evan even told her they were coming over.

“Looks like we may be getting another snowstorm tonight, guys,” Heidi smiles, grabbing something to eat for herself as she hovers in the entryway of the living room. “Please be careful going home, I don’t want to hear that any of you had any hospital visits.”

The kids give her a chorus of promises that they’ll be careful, and Heidi smiles at the four of them before slipping upstairs to get changed for classes that she has that night. Zoe thinks Evan probably just wants her to stay home, but she also knows he’ll never ask her to.

She would stay if it wasn’t going to get bad out.

Looking around the room, Zoe wonders how she found people like Alana and Jared and Evan. People who were rough around the edges, who definitely weren’t perfect people and had a million flaws, but they were so understanding of anything that happened with someone else.

But most of all, they were understanding of Zoe’s situation.

She tried not to talk about Connor to them all that much. For the most part, this group of friends is her escape from everything surrounding her brother, even though he’s started hanging out with them more. They make her forget about all the bad things, about everything that had gone wrong between she and Connor.

It’s all she’s wanted for so long. Now that she has it, she isn’t sure what she did to deserve it all.

—

Connor didn’t hate Evan.

In fact, it was almost the opposite.

He doesn’t have many memories of Evan other than after his attempt, which really is understandable. Connor had spent most of the previous two years high or trying to kill himself, and when he was in school he did his best to just shut everyone out.

But now that he was sober and actually trying to get better, trying to let his recovery begin and the medications work, he had the chance to get to know Evan. And above all else, he made his sister happier than Connor ever remembers seeing her.

It’s everything he couldn’t do in the last few years.

Evan had been spending more time at their house over Christmas break, which Connor honestly expected. Zoe had told him that Evan was Jewish, and so after Hanukkah had ended and the rest of break was in front of him, Evan had nothing else to do.

Connor imagines if he had someone like that he’d want to spend as much time with them as he possibly could.

What Connor hadn’t expected was to be left alone with Evan while Zoe got ready for them to go out with Alana and Jared, Evan awkwardly sitting on the chair in the corner while Zoe is upstairs finishing her makeup.

“You don’t have to feel awkward around me, I promise I’m getting better,” Connor says, cringing at his lame attempt at a joke.

Evan looks over at him, laughing sheepishly as he nods. “I-I know. I mean um, you seem better?” He says, quickly shaking his head. “N-not that I know if you’re better or not? I just um, I just mean since um, since I met you after all this happened you just seem like you’re um, you’re getting better? Or things seem better?”

Connor nods. He decides it’s nice to have people other than his family notice that he’s putting in this effort. That he _wants_ to get better.

“I mean, it’s good to know I’m doing better since you met me after a suicide attempt. I don’t think it gets any lower than that.”

“I know,” Evan whispers, nodding quickly.

“You know?” Connor asks, his eyebrows raising at the boy across from him. He doesn’t mean to upset him, to make him more anxious around him than he already is.

He just never thought he’d hear Evan say he knew what it meant to get as low as a suicide attempt.

Evan looks up at him, his eyes bulging and his legs shaking uncontrollably, looking back at the boy. “I um, you don’t care,” Evan says, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head.

Connor sits up a little straighter. “I do care, Evan,” Connor says, wondering if he even believes himself. “Is there something you want to talk about? I know we don’t really know each other, and you’re definitely still scared of me. But you can talk to me if you feel like you have to.”

“Do you um, do you remember when I broke my arm?” Evan’s rambling now, picking at the bracelet on his wrist instead of looking over at Connor. “You probably don’t, sorry. It was in the summer, but like, Zoe didn’t really let me come over in the summer.”

Connor frowns. He didn’t know Zoe was purposely avoiding bringing people over. He knows it’s his fault.

“I don’t remember,” Connor admits, feeling like he can’t just lie to the boy. He’s already scared of him, he doesn’t need more lies. “But keep going,” Connor urges, watching Evan nod quickly.

“I um, I told everyone that I-I fell out of a tree? Which isn’t a lie, I guess,” Evan says, his breathing getting quicker and his head shaking faster than ever before. Connor wonders if he should be helping the boy, or at least telling him to calm down, take a breath.

He doesn’t have a chance to before Evan is talking again.

“I did fall out of a tree…I just um? It wasn’t an accident?”

Connor feels the air suck out of the room. All he can hear is Evan’s shaky breathing, his hiccuping as if he’s having a panic attack.

He feels like he’s frozen in place, stuck between wanting to help the poor boy across the room and scared that everything Evan had just said is exactly what it sounds like.

“Evan…did you let go of the branch? Did you intentionally fall?” Connor asks slowly, biting the inside of his lip so hard that his eyes blur with tears.

He doesn’t know if he wants to hear the answer.

“Yes,” Evan whispers, nodding quickly as he furiously rubs at his eyes. “I’ve um, I’ve never told anyone except for my…my therapist. But he um, he never told anyone? I never wanted to do it again, at least I don’t think, but um, yeah.”

Connor lets out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding in, forcing himself to look at Evan.

For the first time, he sees a boy in front of him that he felt like he didn’t know anything about. He sees just how… _broken_ he is. How scared he is of admitting that he too has felt the way that Connor has, and while it may not be as bad now or really ever as bad as Connor was, he still had tried to…to kill himself.

He doesn’t know what to say.

“So Zoe doesn’t know?” Connor asks, his voice so quiet that it scares himself. He clenches and releases his fists a few times, desperate to try to make this feel real. “Your mom doesn’t even know?”

Evan shakes his head quickly. “My mom um…she works a lot? She doesn’t need to worry about me more than she already does,” Evan says, which Connor thinks is an awful reason. “I um…I was an apprentice park ranger at Ellison State Park this summer? That’s uh…that’s when I did it. My-my boss took me to the emergency room when I went and found him after no one came to get me.”

Connor nods, but he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t get how Evan just…Evan just hid this all from everyone except his therapist.

“You should tell Zoe,” Connor says, leaning back against the sofa as he stares at the wall. “I think it would help both of you. She’s a really good listener? She’d understand?”

“She’d worry.”

“Maybe. But she’d also care about how you were doing. I think you need one person to know, and if it’s not your mom, maybe it’d be good if it’s her,” He says, wondering if Evan’s ever going to say anything to Zoe.

He decides not to press it, and so the conversation falls silent between the two of them.

Connor’s mind never stops racing.

—

Zoe can tell something is bothering Evan.

He had been quiet all night, even with Alana and Jared and all through the dinner the four of them had gone out to. He gives short answers, picking at the bracelet on his wrist and barely touching his food that’s set in front of him, instead asking for a box to go.

Zoe knows he’s anxious. She just doesn’t know why.

She tries texting Connor to see if Evan had said anything, but Connor gives her short answers before finally telling her to just ask him herself, that he didn’t feel like talking right now.

Zoe doesn’t press it.

She pulls into Evan’s driveway, taking a deep breath as she looks over at Evan. There’s so many things running through her mind that she doesn’t know where to begin. Evan doesn’t make any attempts to get out of the car, and so she waits. Praying that he speaks up before she does because she doesn’t know what she’s going to say.

She worries she did something wrong.

“I have to tell you something,” Evan finally says, his voice quiet as he picks at his jeans. “A-and I don’t know how to? I-I don’t know how I’m going to say it. I um, I told Connor by accident and he told me to tell you but now I don’t know how and I’m scared that you’re going to um, you’re going to want to break up.”

“You can tell me anything,” Zoe says quietly, her heart racing. She worries that this is the end. “Evan, whatever is happening or whatever you want to tell me, you can say it. I’m here for you,” She says, reaching over to take his hand in hers.

“You’re going to hate me,” He whispers, watching Zoe quickly shake her head. “I promise, you will.”

“I won’t.”

Evan takes a deep breath, staring at his garage door as if it’ll magically open and his mom will force him to come inside.

He knows that won’t happen.

“Do you remember when I broke my arm?” Evan finally says, Zoe nodding. Her hand still rests in Evan’s, her thumb running across the back of his hand. “I-I um, I didn’t….I didn’t fall from that tree.”

The car suddenly feels too tight, like the air isn’t enough and Evan’s going to suffocate. He can’t bring himself to look at Zoe, but he can only imagine the hurt and betrayal on her face as things process.

“Evan, what are you talking about?” Zoe asks, shaking her head as she furrows her eyebrows.

“I let go of the tree!” He yells, looking back at her. The tears blur his eyes, and he pulls his hand away to wipe them away. “I-I tried to kill myself, Zoe. I tried to kill myself,” He repeats, his voice cracking as he shakes his head.

Zoe takes a deep breath, nodding. She doesn’t know what to say, what to do to make Evan feel better. This is so different from Connor, where it was so glaringly obvious that he was hurting.

She didn’t think Evan was hurting this bad.

“I’m sorry,” She whispers, leaning her head back against the headrest. “I’m sorry that I didn’t notice, that you were hurting so bad and I just never noticed.”

“It’s not your fault,” Evan argues, shaking his head quickly. “I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want anyone to know.”

Zoe nods, reaching over and taking his hand again. Evan doesn’t pull away. “I love you, and I promise you we’re going to work on this. Everything will be okay. You will be okay.”

Evan nods, calming himself down in the passenger seat of his girlfriend’s car. He hates that he doesn’t know if he feels better or worse now that Zoe knows.

—

Zoe feels like a zombie when she walks into her home after leaving Evan when his mom came home. She urged him to tell Heidi, that she deserved to know and she’d only want to help him if he still feels that way.

She doesn’t know if he’s going to.

She says hello to her parents, who are watching a movie in the living room before she moves upstairs, skipping right past her room and into her brother’s.

Connor’s in the shower, she can hear the water running down the hall. She knows she shouldn’t have been in his room without him knowing, she knows he’d probably lash out or yell at her that she’s invading his space. But right now she needs him, needs him more than ever before, and that may be what terrifies her the most.

“You okay?” She jumps at the voice in the room, turning around to see Connor standing there, his t-shirt hanging loosely off his body, sweatpants on again. “Zo, you’re scaring me.”

If Zoe was in the right frame of mind, she would’ve laughed at that. She would’ve laughed at the fact that Connor was scared of her, just like she had been scared of him for so many years.

But right now she can’t laugh, because she knows more about her boyfriend than she ever thought she would, and she doesn’t know what to say or what to do to help him. Connor she thinks she has figured out. But not Evan.

“How didn’t I know? How didn’t I realize?” She asks, and it takes Connor all of 30 seconds to realize what she was talking about, what she he heard from Evan while she had been out with her friends.

“Zoe, you can’t know everything. Evan obviously didn’t want you to know.” Connor moves back into his room, brushing out his long hair before tying it in a loose bun on top of his head. “Evan can hide things apparently, and this was something that he hid. He said that only his therapist knew.”

Zoe nods, walking further into her brother’s room and falls on his bed, rubbing at her eyes. “But how come he never told me? How could I not have known that him breaking his arm wasn’t an accident? That he felt like…he felt like that?”

“You didn’t know I was as bad as I was in the beginning,” Connor points out, Zoe squeezing her eyes shut.

“I did,” Zoe whispers, feeling the tears well up in her eyes. She knows if she opens them they’re going to fall, but she’s also afraid to look up at her brother. She’s afraid that this night is only going to get worse. “I knew you were as bad as you were, but I was just so _scared_ of you, scared that you were going to hurt me or try to kill me that I took a step back.”

The room is silent for a moment, and she feels the bed dip beside her. Connor’s silent, but she can hear his breathing and she doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. “I’m sorry, Connor. I know that that was wrong now and I should’ve helped you even if you were awful to me, but I was just so scared and I didn’t know what to do.”

“Zoe,” Connor cuts her off. His voice is short and Zoe knows he’s upset. She can’t help but be afraid that he’s going to lash out at her. She thinks about leaving, but Connor’s voice cuts through the tension in the room again. “What matters is you’re helping me now.”

Zoe doesn’t believe that. Connor doesn’t believe himself.

“You need to do the same for Evan. I know it was a while ago, that he says he’s over it. But if he’s anxious or having a bad day then you need to be there, just like you are for me. Although I’m sure he won’t push you away like I do most of the time.”

“Connor —“

“Zoe, it’s fine,” Connor cuts her off, looking over at his sister. “I have pushed you away. I still push you away, I still tell you to leave me alone and that you’re making things worse. But Evan isn’t like me. Evan is a lot better than me in a million different ways, okay? You don’t need to argue that, it’s just true. But you can help Evan the same way you try to help me.”

Zoe nods, sitting up and turning to face her brother. “Okay,” She whispers, folding her hands in her lap awkwardly. “I'm sorry I didn’t do enough in the beginning to help you.”

“We’re not talking about that, okay? There’s a million things we both could’ve done. But we’re changing now, and that’s what we’re going to focus on.”

Zoe nods, mumbling some sort of thank you before she stands up off his bed, walking to her own room.

Zoe feels numb for the rest of the night, her mind running at a million miles a minute as she struggles to come to terms with everything Evan had told her, and how much she needed to change to make sure that he was okay and getting better, just like Connor had told her to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan's little storyline will not really come into factor after this, i just really wanted something that i felt like brought Connor and Evan together, and since this is in the musical, here we are!
> 
> thank you for reading/commenting/leaving kudos! i know i say it every time and i feel like a broken record but i'm just glad people are enjoying this? 
> 
> you can find me and talk to me on tumblr if you'd like! for-f0rever.tumblr.com
> 
> more on tuesday! thank you for reading :)


	33. thirty three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Zoe spends New Years with her friends, but things aren't always perfect

For a while, Connor seriously contemplates going down to the basement and joining in on the fun Zoe seems to be having with her friends. _It’s New Year’s Eve_ , he tells himself, _you deserve to have some fun_.

For the last few days, Connor can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. He doesn’t know what it is, because there hasn’t really been a reason to have bad days. He’s had good therapy sessions with Dr. James, even having his therapy sessions downgraded to only two times a week, a feat he didn’t think he was going to see for a long time. He had been taking his meds, his parents hadn’t been all that overbearing, and he had barely lashed out at anyone in his family.

Which makes the confusion of his bad days even more troubling.

He spent most of the day trying to find the courage to ask his sister if he can hang out with her and her friends that night. He _knows_ he doesn’t need to ask, he knows that she’ll say yes and she’d probably even want him there, but there’s still some points in his life where he feels like he’s walking on eggshells around her, like he’s going to do one little thing wrong and freak out and they’re going to go right back to where they started all those months ago.

He doesn’t want to lose Zoe, not after the last few months and everything they’ve been through.

“Hey,” Connor’s train of thought is broken when he looks over to see his mother standing in the doorway, a smile on her face. “I made Dad and I some homemade soup. Did you want to come down and have some with us?” She asks.

Connor can tell she’s not expecting him to say yes.

“I guess so,” He shrugs, pushing himself to sit up and run his fingers through his hair. “I um, are Zoe’s friends eating with us?”

Cynthia shakes her head. “I let them order pizza. If you’d rather have that I’m sure Zoe wouldn’t mind if you went down and hung out with them for a little bit,” She offers, not surprised when Connor quietly declines the offer.

She doesn’t press him for a reason.

Cynthia makes her way back downstairs to get dinner out on the table for the three of them, and Connor slowly gets out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom to wash up.

He catches his reflection in the mirror, mentally reminding himself that a shower is on the cards for after dinner. He knows it’s been days since the last time he showered, and while he knows that’s gross, he can’t help it. It’s just been a week that he doesn’t understand, doesn’t know how to cope with, and there have been so many things he’s just left off of his normal routine in favor of staying in bed and desperately searching for a reason as to why everything has just changed.

He thinks Larry smiles at him when he comes into the kitchen, but he’s not entirely sure. He sinks down into his seat anyway, leaning his head in his hand as he slowly begins eating his dinner. He can hear his sister downstairs, watching a movie with her friends. Laughing. Having fun.

His mind wanders to Evan.

Zoe had been doing better since she found out Evan’s secret. She had largely left Connor alone about it which…hurt Connor. He didn’t mind if she wanted to talk about it, but now that she’s not really talking to him about well, anything, he doesn’t know how to react.

He wonders if that’s part of the problem. Part of why he feels so lost himself.

“Connor?” Connor’s head snaps up when he hears his name, both of his parents looking at him in concern.

He wonders if Larry has ever looked at him like this before.

“Sorry, what?”

“I just asked if you’re feeling okay,” Cynthia sighs, dropping her spoon back into her bowl to reach over and feel his forehead. “You’ve barely touched your food.”

Connor nods, dipping his head when Cynthia pulls away. “I’m okay,” He nods, which may be the least convincing he’s sounded in weeks. “I just…it’s been an odd week.”

Both of his parents stares only get more worrying.

“Connor, what do you mean?” Larry asks after a brief pause, looking back at his son in concern. Connor feels more uncomfortable than anything, because since everything had happened he had rarely let Larry in, let him see when he was struggling and needed help.

He usually saved that for his mom.

Twirling his spoon around in his soup Connor sighs, refusing to meet his parents eyes. “I don’t know,” He mumbles, so quietly that he’s not sure his parents even hear him. “Everything just feels…weird. I can’t shake the feeling that something is about to go wrong, or I’m about to freak out and take a million step backwards. Everything just…everything just feels like too much. Like my brain can’t process it all and I don’t know how to fix it. It’s like I’m anxious all the time but nothing stops it. The meds just barely take the edge off. It’s…I don't know what to do.”

Cynthia sighs, so lost in the moment that she isn’t sure what to say. “Have you been sleeping better since Dr. James gave you those techniques that help?”

Connor shrugs. “I don’t know,” He groans, letting his head fall back. “I don’t know anything because I don’t really feel any worse than normal but I also don’t feel better. I just…I want to fix this and I want to be back to where I was a few weeks ago, but now I’m here and everything is just so confusing.”

He doesn’t mean to start crying, and he definitely doesn’t mean to tense up when Larry is at his side, his hand firmly rubbing his shoulder. “It’s okay, Connor. We’re going to figure this out, we’re going to make sure that you get better,” Larry says, which feels so foreign and yet everything Connor had wanted that he only starts crying more, which he _knows_ worries his parents even more than they already were.

“I’m sorry,” He sobs, trying his best to calm down. Cynthia’s hands runs through his hair, shushing him softly as they both try to get him to calm down.

“It’s okay, baby. You have nothing to be sorry for. You can’t control this, but you’re trying and that’s all we ask. Don’t give up, okay? You can’t just give up. We’re going to figure this out no matter how long it takes, I promise you.”

Connor nods, but it doesn’t feel like enough. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get out of this, how he’s just going to start feel better again and back to the way he was a few weeks ago, when things felt like they were taking a turn for the better for the first time in years.

That may be what scares him the most.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and take a shower. It’s been a few days, right?” Larry asks, his hand still lightly resting on Connor’s shoulder.

Connor remembers a time Larry would’ve yelled at him for going days without a shower. Now he just squeezes his shoulder after Connor nods, his thumb caressing his shoulder.

“I’ll heat you up some soup after, okay? Just go take a nice long shower, take some deep breaths and let your body relax,” Cynthia soothes, her lips pressing lightly against his forehead.

Connor wishes it was that easy.

He nods anyway, rubbing at his eyes with the sleeves of his sweatshirt before standing up and making his way upstairs slowly, his breathing still hitched in his throat.

He lets the scalding hot water run over his body, trying to take deep breaths as the steam makes things easier. His eyes feel heavy, his body feeling slightly more relaxed now that he feels like he’s calmed down slightly. He doesn’t know how to feel better, doesn’t know that this shower is really going to help anything once he steps out, but it’s a step in the right direction.

He finally forces himself out of the shower when his skin is bright red and the water is starting to get cold, toweling off his hair and brushing it out. He throws on a new pair of sweatpants he got for Christmas and a sweatshirt that is far too big for him, forcing himself to go downstairs.

He knows being alone is only going to make it worse.

His parents are sitting in the living room watching a movie, Cynthia smiling when he walks back in. “Feel any better?” She asks, and Connor only nods.

He can’t admit that he doesn’t, not really. Not when she looks so hopeful.

She stands up, going to heat him up some soup before coming back and handing him the bowl. “I know that’s a lot, but just eat as much as you can, okay?” She says, Connor nodding as he takes slow bites, trying to force himself to eat it all.

He gives up halfway through.

There's a movie playing on TV, one that Connor thinks they’ve seen a million times before, but he doesn’t question it. He just sets his bowl down on the coffee table, and without thinking about it, his head falls into his mother’s lap.

In an instant her fingers are running through his damp hair, lightly massaging his scalp as Connor lets a deep breath escape. He thinks this may be helping more than anything else has, which is…okay, he thinks.

“Your hair is getting so long,” She mumbles, not accusatory. More just…observant. Which Connor is okay with. He doesn’t want to cut it, at least not right now.

He hums some sort of response, but it’s so low and under his breath that he doesn’t even think his mom heard him.

There’s a silence in the room, and Connor glances at the clock. For someone who had been having so much trouble sleeping he wonders if he’s even going to make it to midnight, not that he’d care if he didn’t.

He doesn't care about New Years. He’s never understood the people who did make a big deal about it. For him, it’s always just been another day. Turning a year doesn’t mean anything is going to change, and up until a few months ago he would’ve argued that he was going to be the way that he was for the rest of his life, or at least until he could find a way to kill himself that actually worked.

Now he wonders what the next year is going to bring. He wonders if things will keep changing, if the bad days will get less frequent and he’ll be able to just…live his life. Graduate high school, move away for college, experience a million other firsts.

He doesn’t get his hopes up.

He hasn't noticed that his parents had turned on the New Years festivities in New York until he blinks his eyes blearily, reaching up to rub them. He can hear the people on TV talking about resolutions, how they want to just start over the following day, making new habits and memories through the year that make them happier.

Connor wonders if he could just wish everything away. If he could just wake up and start over with his life, find a different way to cope with every single thing that’s happened in his life.

“What do you want for the new year, baby?” Cynthia asks, her fingers pausing in his hair.

She wonders if she should’ve even asked. For a moment she had forgotten about Connor’s bad days, about the way he had been feeling the last few days and everything they had gone through. For a moment she thought that Connor was just going to give her a stereotypical answer that most people give, about how they wanted to be healthy and happy.

Connor’s silent for a moment, taking a deep breath as he tries to think of something — _e_  — that just sounds like an answer someone would give.

“I want to get better,” He finally settles on, Larry’s attention turning towards his son. “I want to um, I want the meds to work and I want to start feeling okay again.”

Cynthia nods, biting her lip to just stop the tears that never seem to stop when she’s with her son.

“You will, buddy,” Larry says in place of his wife filling the silence, and Connor just nods.

He doesn’t have the strength to argue, the will to tell him that he probably won’t, that it’ll probably just stay like this for a long time.

The silence fills the room again once more, and no one wakes Connor up when he falls asleep well before midnight, curled against his mother’s lap like he did so many times when he was just a little boy.

It’s not the way Cynthia or Larry had ever expected to end the year, but neither of them were going to refute it.

The last few months had been about progress, and after months of uncertainty and tough times, Cynthia finally feels like the progress is starting to pay off.

It’s all she could’ve asked for.

—

As dumb as it sounds, Zoe had actually gotten her hopes up about spending the night ringing in the new year with her brother.

For the most part, the last few days had been…difficult. She had smoothed things over with Evan, the two of them talking things through as Evan promises to be more honest, to tell her when he feels like it’s a hard day and he feels the way he felt on that day where he had let go.

But as well as things had been going with Evan since they had smoothed things over, she feels like her relationship with Connor has stalled.

She thinks about talking to him, smoothing things over and figuring out what’s going on inside his brain. But every time she thinks it’s going to be the right time for the two of them to talk Connor just never seems in the right frame of mind, and so she doesn’t talk to him.

Zoe wonders if that made it worse.

She pushes aside all of her feelings about she and Connor’s relationship and just focuses on being with her friends, ringing in the new year and saying goodbye to a year that had brought equal amounts of pain and triumph.

She and Evan had spent most of the night curled up on the sofa watching movies with Alana and Jared, Jared making inappropriate remarks at every turn of each movie. It takes until the third movie before Alana slaps him, the room laughing as they move on to playing games as the new year inches closer, the festivities in Times Square playing in the background on TV.

“So, has anyone made any New Year’s resolutions?” Alana asks, dealing out the cards to Uno after Jared had triumphantly exclaimed that Evan had cheated in their first game. “Personally, I’ve made a resolution to stop working on so much volunteering and have more fun with friends,” She says, looking around the room. “Of course, You Will Be Found will still be my main priority. I’m not giving up that.”

Zoe laughs, nodding as she looks back around the room. It’s evident neither of the boys are going to speak up, and so she feels like it’s her turn to say something so that Alana doesn’t feel like her question was a burden to the group.

Zoe knows Alana is insecure about those kinds of things.

“I um, I’d like to be more open about how people are feeling,” Zoe says, shrugging uncomfortably. “I mean, this year has taught me to be more patient, to know that people are going through things that you may’ve never realized, but I want to get better at it.”

Alana’s face lights up, but before she has a chance to say anything Jared speaks up.

“I’d like to go to more parties,” He smirks, all of them groaning as Zoe throws the box to Uno at his head.

Evan stays quiet, but Zoe knows this isn’t easy for him. She wishes he would just think of something, and just when the time passes and she feels like he’s missed his chance, Evan clears his throat.

“I want to um, I want to work on being a better friend?” He says, everyone turning toward him. “And like, just um, just being more honest with everyone,” He says, thankful when no one presses him on what he wants to be more honest about.

“Well, I think we can all agree that we can make these resolutions become a reality!” Alana says, clapping her hands together before going back to refereeing the Uno game that was getting more intense by the minute.

As the hours turn into minutes and everyone on TV are counting down the final 60 seconds of the year, Zoe finds herself pulling herself closer to Evan. She wraps her arms around him, and as the final 5 seconds of the year count down, Evan’s lips slowly press against Zoe’s.

For those few seconds, everything feels perfect. He calms down, his body relaxing against Zoe’s as she cups her face in his hands. When they pull apart he rests his forehead against hers, giving her an uneasy smile.

“Happy New Year, Zoe. Thank you for always being there,” He whispers, Zoe pecking his lips once more.

“Happy New Year, Evan,” She whispers, and for a moment, the new year feels like it’s going to be the year that everything gets better.

—

Zoe spends a few more minutes with her friends before setting off for upstairs to find extra pillows and blankets and more to drink for all of them, surprised to hear the TV still on in the living room.

She’s even more surprised to find Connor asleep with his head in their mother’s lap, both of her parents still awake.

“Everything okay?” Cynthia asks when she sees Zoe hovering in the doorway, a smile on her face.

Zoe nods, her eyes still flashing between both of her parents and Connor. “Yeah, I just came up to get more to drink for us and find some pillows and blankets,” She says, watching both of her parents nod before she turns back, her hand resting on the molding in the doorway. “I, um…is he okay?”

There’s a pause that really tells Zoe exactly what her mother means, but she doesn’t say anything about it. “He’s going to be fine, I promise,” Cynthia says, which seems so fake and contrived and everything they had been trying _not_ to do since Connor came home from the hospital months ago that she feels betrayed, almost.

As if her mother doesn’t trust her.

“You just worry about having fun with your friends. Everyone has what they need, right?” She asks, quickly changing the subject. Zoe hesitates for a moment before nodding, biting her lip as her eyes stay fixed on her brother, who just looks so innocent asleep.

She wonders when the last time he slept like this was.

“Thank you for letting them sleep over,” She mumbles, looking between both of their parents. Larry nods, sitting up in his chair.

“We trust you, Zoe. Just don’t do anything stupid,” He smiles, forcing a smile onto Zoe’s face as she nods.

She makes her way back downstairs with her friends, but her mind still keeps the images of Connor in the back of her mind.

She falls asleep that night surrounded by the three people who she now feels safe calling her best friends, promising herself that she’s going to be better not only for Connor, but for Evan as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i toyed with ending this story without any relapses, but that's not how recovery is so! Connor going through a rough patch is hard for everyone when everything had been going so well :( but things are better with his family this time around at least!
> 
> thank you for reading/love on this :) 
> 
> you can find me on tumblr if you'd like to talk to me! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> more on friday!


	34. thirty four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where things aren't great, but Zoe and Connor talk

If there’s one thing that Connor can count on being consistent in his life, it’s his appointments with Dr. James. They’re coming less frequently now that Dr. James thinks he’s okay to come twice a week, but he still feels better being there than anywhere else.

Most days he feels like Dr. James is the only one who understands him.

“So, I see it’s been a tough few days for you,” Dr. James begins, looking over the sheet that Connor had filled out when he had arrived that afternoon, just like he has every other session. “Does this have to do to with starting school back again, or is it more at home?”

Connor’s silent for a moment, trying to figure out the answer that he feels is right. He doesn’t _know_ what’s made him feel like this, he doesn’t know where to even begin trying to explain this to his therapist who seems to be waiting for an answer.

“School has been okay, actually,” Connor concedes, which isn’t a lie. He’s actually surprised by how well school has been going the last few days. He definitely wishes he didn’t have to go, but he doesn’t dread going like he used to. He just keeps to himself and prays that people stop whispering things about them when he can clearly hear them. “I think it’s more at home?”

Dr. James nods, writing a few things down. That’s the one thing Connor had never gotten used to — the constant scribbling of his thoughts, the constant nodding and humming as he talks through his problems.

“Is there something specific at home? You said your trip away for Christmas went well, but did something change once you were back that you can think of?” He asks, setting his pen down and looking at Connor.

Initially Connor shrugs, biting his lip. “I, um, Zoe and I have been different?” He says, shaking his head. “It’s not really bad, I don’t think. Like I didn’t lash out at her and we didn’t have a fight, but she’s been kind of distant towards me and I haven’t put any effort into fixing it or anything.” Connor takes a deep breath, picking at the sleeves of his sweatshirt.

“Her boyfriend and I talked a lot a few days ago, and like Zoe seemed thrown off by things that he had said to me? Which is fine, because I felt the same way honestly. But since then she’s kind of just barely said much to me, and then I started slipping away and feeling like I was just stuck in this rut where nothing was getting better but it also wasn’t really getting worse, so I couldn’t figure out why I had just felt even more depressed than normal.”

Dr. James nods, tapping his pen against his notepad.

It drives Connor crazy, but he bites his lip until the urge to lash out subsides.

“It’s okay to have feelings like this, Connor. It doesn’t mean that you’re getting worse again or your medications aren’t working,” Dr. James begins, which really brings more peace of mind to Connor than anything else has.

“I don’t want to change anything just yet, because I do think that this is just a rough patch that you’re going to have to talk through with Zoe. It seems like what’s going on with you right now may have a lot to do with the steps back you’ve taken in your relationship with her.”

Connor nods, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. “What if that doesn’t help though? Like what if I keep feeling like this even if things get better with Zoe?”

There’s a pause, one that makes Connor feel like he's going to suffocate. He just wants answers. He wants to know how to fix this, and he wants it magically done so he can just go back to feeling better, or as close to better as he can get.

“If fixing things with Zoe isn’t the answer, then we’ll look more into your medications,” Dr. James says quietly, writing quickly before looking back up at Connor, who seems more uncomfortable with all of this than he has in a long time. “That would most likely mean a hospitalization while we figure out your medication dosages and what’s going to work best for you, which I obviously want to avoid if we can. I think you'll feel the same way about that.”

Connor tenses. The last place he ever wants to be is in a hospital again.

“Connor, breathe,” Dr. James says quietly, leaning forward. “I really don’t think switching your medications right now is the answer. I think this is something beyond medications, but if it’s not we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

There’s a pause, one where Connor nods furiously as if he’s trying to convince himself that Dr. James is right, that somehow things are going to be okay.

“For the next few days I want you to slowly talk things through with Zoe. Tell her how you’ve been feeling about your relationship, how you feel things have changed and what you need from her. It’s okay to lean on her, but you cannot have her be your only source of happiness or comfort.”

“Okay,” Connor whispers, rubbing at his eyes.

He doesn’t know that this session really made him feel any better, but he leaves with homework and a goal, and maybe that’s what he needs to start feeling like things were finally going to turn around.

—

Cynthia leaves Connor be for the ride home, turning on the radio in favor of conversation. She glances at him every stoplight, taking in his features. His eyes are slightly bloodshot from crying, there’s dark bags under his eyes, and just like always, Cynthia feels helpless. It’s been months since they really started making a change in their lives, since Connor really started trying and showing signs of wanting to get better, but she still feels like she’s walking on a tightrope most days.

She worries that one misstep is going to send him free falling, and the little boy she had started to see in Connor’s eyes again was going to slip away right before her eyes.

She has a million thoughts in her mind, a few lingering on the tip of her tongue, wanting to be said. It’s not easy to just keep quiet, not saying anything in fear that he’ll lash out, saying how she doesn’t understand and she’s never going to understand how he feels most day.

She _knows_ that’s true. She knows she doesn’t understand how he feels on most days. She knows she’ll probably never understand what it’s like to wake up in the morning with those thoughts on your mind. To wake up and have your mother need to give you medication in hopes that it just makes you feel somewhat normal.

But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to try to understand, try to get into her son’s brain, help him when he feels like he can’t help himself.

She pulls into the driveway, shutting the car off and looking over towards her son. He’s unbuckled his seatbelt, but makes no attempt to move. Cynthia doesn’t move either, but turns to look at Connor and knows she needs to say something.

“I know you don’t want to hear me talk,” She begins, smiling softly to herself. “I know that nothing I say is helpful, and I’m sure you want to be left alone. And I know I’ve told you a million times, but it’s going to be okay, Connor. We’re going to figure this out and we’re going to make sure that things get better. Okay?”

Connor nods, whispering a form of a thank you before he opens his door, walking into his house.

Cynthia lets him go upstairs for a little while, promising herself that she’ll check on him in a little bit. Instead she busies her mind with cleaning the kitchen and putting the last of the Christmas decorations away, trying desperately to shake the helpless feeling that seems so permanently etched inside of her over the last few months.

—

All Connor can think about is how much he wants to lay in bed and not do anything. He knows it’s too early to go to bed, but he wonders if he accidentally falls asleep if his mom would wake him up for dinner later that night.

He hopes she doesn’t.

He tries dozing off, but his mind is racing at a million miles a minute and sleep isn’t going to come easy for him. So he grabs the book off his bedside table, skimming through the pages he’s memorized years ago and trying desperately to just let his medicine work, let the anxiety slowly leave his body.

He can hear the front door shut, and a few minutes later he knows it’s Zoe coming home from jazz band and hanging out with Evan. The voices are muffled, but he hears something about dinner being ready soon and how she could go upstairs and get started on her homework if she wanted.

Her footsteps get closer, but instead of leading into her room she stands in his doorway, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at her feet. “Um, do you want to talk?”

Connor wants to say no. He wants to say that he can’t deal with this right now, that he just wants to be alone and not interrogated after an hour of therapy where he felt like he was interrogated there.

But Dr. James’ words ring through his brain, telling him to work on his relationship with Zoe. Be brutally honest with her, tell her what he thinks has changed and how they need to fix things.

So he nods, folding his legs in front of him so Zoe can sit on the edge of the bed.

“Things have been bad for me,” Connor mumbles when Zoe sits down, clearly waiting for him to start talking. “And um, I feel like some of it has to do with the way we’ve been the last few days?”

He feels uncomfortable saying it, like his skin crawls in an attempt to leave his body and he wishes he hadn’t said anything in the first place.

There’s a silence in the room, and Zoe fidgets. “I’m sorry,” She mumbles, but it seems so distant and quiet that it only makes Connor worry more. Worry that he had done something wrong and didn’t even realize.

He doesn’t think he could deal with himself if he did something to lose Zoe.

“This isn’t your fault,” She says, which really doesn’t make Connor feel that much better. “I um, ever since Evan told me…you know,” She says, glancing towards Connor. He just nods, because he does know, and he understands why she can’t say it. “I’ve kind of just been feeling like maybe I haven’t been doing enough for not only you, but him as well. And then it spiraled into me wondering if I’ve been too overbearing with you, and so I tried to back off. I tried to give you space because I know you hate the hovering and the worrying and the overbearing, and so I laid off because I thought that’s what you would want.”

“It’s not what I want.”

“I know,” Zoe nods.

Connor tries not to get agitated. “If you knew, then why did you do it?”

“Connor, I know what I did was wrong. I know that me just abandoning you wasn’t the right move, but I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t want to suffocate you, I don’t want you to lash out at me because of something I did. And I know it’s dumb, but I’m still scared of you a little, and so when I thought maybe I was being too much I just…stopped.”

Connor nods. He doesn’t understand, he doesn’t get why she’s still so scared of him. “I don’t want you to be scared of me. I don’t get how you still could be. Not after the last few months.”

“You’re not doing anything to make me scared of you. It’s just like…it’s like a reflex, you know?” Connor shrugs. “For so many years I was so scared that you were going to hurt me, even if you didn’t mean it. And things are so much better, I promise they are. But I just can’t help but think that something is going to happen and you won’t be able to control yourself.”

Connor nods as if he understands. He’s not sure that he does, but there’s something about Zoe just telling him _why_ she seemed to just randomly get distant that made him feel slightly better. Like maybe they were making progress.

Connor falls back on his pillows, and for a moment Zoe is stunned. She doesn’t think Connor would just give up like that, not when they were actually trying to talk things through. But then she remembers he had therapy, and she wonders if this even was the right time to say something to him, to even try to bring this up.

“Mom said dinner is almost ready. Maybe you and I can talk about this later? When you’re feeling a little better.”

Connor nods, watching her stand up from the bed.

“I need you to be there for me,” Connor whispers when she’s hovering in the doorway, clearly not ready to just give up on this conversation.

She turns back, watching as Connor stares at the tattoo on his wrist. The same one she has on hers.

“I um, I’m never going to feel any better if you keep distancing yourself. For most of this recovery you and I have been…trying, and I think it’s working? I really do think that you’re a lot of the reason as to why I’m starting to maybe feel better.”

Zoe nods, biting her lip as she looks back at her brother. “I’m not leaving, you know. I’m going to be better, just like Mom and Dad are trying to be better, too.” Connor nods, looking up at his sister. “Just maybe try to rest. I’ll come get you for dinner.”

Connor sighs, leaning further back into his pillows as Zoe walks away, back into her own room.

Her mind races to her brother just down the hall and everything that she needs to change.

She needs to be better for him, even if it’s going to be hard for her to deal with.

—

Dinner is quiet, and other than the quiet chatter between Cynthia and Larry there’s a lot left unsaid on the table. Connor doesn’t find it uncomfortable, but eating is difficult and he only manages half his plate before he gives up, twirling his pasta around his fork and releasing it when he knows he’s not going to be allowed to be excused just to slip back upstairs.

His mom is worried, and she deserves to be. The least he could do is try to force himself to be with his family, praying it would help.

Zoe finishes her plate of food and promptly excuses herself upstairs to finish her homework, leaving just Connor with his parents.

He could really use a blunt right about now.

“Connor, is that all you want to eat?” Cynthia asks, frowning when Connor just nods. “Do you want me to make you something else?”

Cynthia ignores Larry’s stares, telling her that they can’t coddle him, can’t give in to whatever he wants.

“No, I’m just not that hungry. I ate as much as I could.”

Cynthia nods, clearing his plate from in front of him and taking them to the kitchen. Connor’s eyes blur when he stares at the placemat in front of him for too long, and he can just barely hear his dad’s chair scratch against the hardwood, and indication that he was getting up.

“I don’t want to be in the hospital again.”

The room freezes, as if Connor has said something horrendous that’s going to change all their lives. He can’t bring himself to look up.

“If I can’t fix things with Zoe, or if that doesn’t make me feel any better then we’re going to have to change my medicine, which means I’m going to have to be in the hospital.”

Cynthia sighs, and Connor hears the plates clink against the granite countertops. “Connor, Dr. James doesn’t think this rough patch has anything to do with your medication. You know that.”

“But what if it is my medication?” Connor asks, looking up at his parents. “What if this whole time I’m blaming it on me just distancing myself from everyone and you guys and Zoe just like, not being there all the time — which you _shouldn’t_ be there all the time — but it’s really my medicine?”

Larry walks around the table, sitting down in Cynthia’s chair so he’s closer to Connor. He wants to reach out to touch him, hold his hand and promise him that things were going to be okay — as if this was just like when he was 5 and they broke his wiffle ball bat being too rough.

But Connor flinches when he tries to reach out, and so he hastily pulls his hand away, folding them in his lap.

“We’re going to take this one day at a time. The three of us are going to work on being a little more involved and maybe not pull away as quick as we did. You want your independence, but not this much this soon,” He says, surprised when Connor nods. “But if it is your medicine, then we’ll do everything we have to do to make sure that you get on a medicine that works for you. And if that means a hospitalization, then we’re going to spend every night with you until you’re ready to come home again.”

“This isn’t going to be instant, Connor. Nothing is a miracle cure, nothing is magically going to make you feel better. But this is about keeping you in a safe environment and aiding your recovery, and we’re going to do everything to make sure that happens,” Cynthia adds on, sighing when Connor nods.

“Okay,” He whispers, standing up from his chair and making his way upstairs.

They hear the shower turn on a moment later, their eyes meeting each other. Larry walks to his wife’s side, pulling her into his chest.

“We’re going to figure this out. We’re going to get him back on track, no matter what it takes. He’s going to be okay, it’s going to be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading/leaving comments/kudos like??? i still can't believe people actually like this story most of the time haha.
> 
> you can talk to me on tumblr if you'd like! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> more on tuesday!!


	35. thirty five.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Connor is struggling and the Murphy's are at a loss.

Connor ends up staying home from school for two days, which really only worries Zoe more.

He had been doing so well, and now he’s missing school again, coming up with excuses as to why he can’t be there. It’s as if the wheels had just fallen off completely and the family is back to walking on eggshells around Connor, who is back to withdrawing himself from everything. Zoe _knows_ it’s not that bad, she knows it’s still better than where they were before, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

Because Connor is going through a rough patch and no one knows what to do to help him, and that’s the scariest part. They always had the answers since his attempt, and now they don’t.

Zoe tries not to be surprised when she walks in the front door from school to find the house quiet, having an hour to herself before she planned to meet up at Evan’s to do some homework with him and have dinner with him and Heidi.

She thinks about getting a head start on homework, or maybe answering a few questions from the website that she had left untouched over the last few days. But right now she doesn’t feel like she’s in the right frame of mind to give advice, and the thought of even opening a textbook right now is enough to give her a headache.

So instead she climbs the steps up to her bedroom, stopping by Connor’s room to see him laying on his bed. “How many more days do you plan on faking sick?”

She freezes. Connor’s head snaps to look at her.

“Depression isn’t fucking faking it, Zoe.” Connor’s words are sharp, and really she should’ve expected that. “You think I want to lay here and wallow in pity all day?”

Zoe shrugs. She feels like she probably shouldn’t answer that.

“Okay, well I'm going to my room.”

“Good for you.”

“You can hang out with me if you want.”

There’s a pause. Zoe almost wonders if he’s going to say yes. “I’m fine,” He says, looking away when Zoe visibly deflates.

She sits on her bed for most of the hour, staring at the wall in front of her and desperately tries to think of a way to just show Connor that it’s going to be okay, even when she doesn’t believe it herself.

—

Evan’s house is less chaotic, to say the least. On the nights Heidi had off from work there would be music playing quietly throughout the house, dinner being made instead of ordered out, and Evan just seemed happier. It doesn't take a genius to understand that Evan would much rather his mom just be home with him most nights, but he rarely talks about it and so Zoe never brings it up. She never wants to feel like she’s overstepping some boundaries.

“Did you um, did you study for that test?” Evan asks, looking over at Zoe as she flips through a study guide on her lap, largely just watching the words pass by without really comprehending anything.

She looks up at him, sighing. “I tried? I don’t know, there’s a lot in my brain right now, I really don't think I comprehended any of it,” She shrugs, looking back at him. “What about you? Did you look at it?”

Evan nods quickly, sighing. “I made flashcards? I could uh, I could give them to you if you want? Let you see them?” He offers, looking relieved when Zoe smiles.

“Thanks,” She nods, flipping through the study guide on her lap. “It’s just, a lot has been going on with Connor and I _know_ school needs to be a priority, but like, I’m also not trying to have him slip away again. Not when we’ve come this far.”

Evan nods, and the room falls silent for a moment. Zoe wants to hum along to the music coming from downstairs, but in this instance it just feels wrong, like maybe it would be out of place to do something like that.

“I um, how is he?” Evan asks after a moment, looking over at his girlfriend. Connor wasn’t something she loved talking about, but it had been so long and she just seemed so _overwhelmed_ by everything.

He tries not to apologize for asking when Zoe sighs.

“I don’t know how he is,” She says truthfully, tapping her pen against her leg. “He’s had a really bad few days. I’m pretty sure everyone could tell on New Years that he wasn’t himself, but it’s been a lot of that. Staying in bed most of the day, barely eating anything. My dad had to practically drag him to the shower after they let him go like 2 days without one. He threatened to give Connor a shower if he didn’t do it himself.”

Evan nods, wondering how Zoe just lives with bottling all of this up.

“I overheard my parents talking about maybe a hospitalization when they thought Connor and I were in bed.”

“H-Hospital?” Evan asks. Zoe nods.

“He can’t just switch meds like you could. His body would go through withdrawal because of the amount he’s on, and so if his therapist decides that maybe they need to take a look at his meds, try something new, he’s going to have to be in the hospital. I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that, and I think that's part of the reason why he’s so off. He doesn’t want to be in the hospital again.”

“I can’t blame him.”

Zoe nods.

She doesn’t know what else to say, and Evan constantly feels like he’s overbearing and maybe saying too much. So instead he leans forward, lightly pressing his lips to Zoe’s.

They end up making out until Heidi calls them for dinner, frantically trying to hide their flushed cheeks and messy hair so she doesn’t question them.

—

There’s an odd aura in the house, one that feels so unsettling and uncomfortable. Cynthia is at a loss at what to do, and although she thinks about natural therapies and aromas to make things feel better in the house, right now that doesn’t seem like the answer.

Cynthia hates that she doesn’t know how her husband feels about all of this. He had come so far in his acceptance of his son needing help, that there were going to be bad days and they couldn’t just get mad at him. But this wasn’t a bad day — it was a bad week, more like, and right now they had more questions than answers.

Larry’s mostly resigned to burying himself back into work, which isn’t all that unusual now that it’s after the holidays and he had taken time off to be with his family. He comes home late, manages to bite his tongue and not freak out at their son at dinner, and that alone feels like he’s doing more than his share of what they need to get Connor better.

But Cynthia knows it’s not nearly enough. Connor needs more from all of them, and there are times where she feels like she may be the only one trying.

Connor hadn't moved from bed since that morning, when they had forced him into the shower long after Zoe had left for school. In a way Cynthia is grateful this happened just at the tail end of their winter break, with Connor only missing his second day of school after managing a few days in the beginning of the week. Still, she worried, and while school was important, his mental health meant more.

“Sweetheart, are you awake?” Cynthia hovers in the doorway of her son’s room, watching him carefully. Connor takes a moment before he sighs, turning his head to look at her.

She takes his look as a sign that she could come in, walking quietly to where his desk is, pulling out the chair and sitting down. She’s silent for a moment, just watching her son and how he seems to curl in on himself so much more these days, looking far younger than 17. She doesn’t know where to begin with him, doesn’t know how to make this feel like it’s ever going to get any better when she doesn’t have any idea herself.

“How are you feeling?” She asks, which is so cliche and everything Connor doesn’t want to be asked. He hates answering that question and always has, and Cynthia immediately wishes she just hadn’t asked.

Connor just takes a deep breath, pulling his head from his chest to look at her.

It’s the first time she notices his bloodshot eyes, the dark purple bags under them.

“I don’t know,” He says truthfully, his voice cracking with each word. “I don’t feel that much better, but I don’t feel any worse. I feel bad for missing school.”

Cynthia can’t mask her sigh.

“School is the least of your worries right now,” She reminds him, Connor nodding slowly. There’s a pause in the room, giving Connor time to curl in on himself again. “I’ve booked you an extra appointment with Dr. James for this afternoon,” She says, bracing herself for how he’s going to react.

She’s surprised when he doesn’t say anything.

“I just think maybe we need to talk more about what’s going on, figure out if there’s anything we can do to get you back on track and back in school, okay?”

Connor nods, taking a deep breath as he pushes himself to sit up. Cynthia acts like she doesn’t notice him steadying himself. “I just…I’m scared of going,” He admits, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m scared that if I admit that things don’t feel that much better that I’m um, I’m going to have to be in the hospital. I don’t want to go back, Mom. I know if I have to then I have to, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

Cynthia bites her lip, willing away the tears just like she has so many times the last few months. She hates that her son feels like this, knowing that absolutely nothing she says is going to change that. “None of this is easy, Con. I know it’s not, and I know nothing I say really makes it any better,” She begins, moving from the chair over to the bed.

Connor doesn’t pull away.

“Trust me, the last place that I want to see you is in a hospital bed. But if that means that you’re alive and you’re getting better, then I’ll be right by your side the whole time.”

Connor nods, his head falling against her shoulder. “But let’s just hope this can be done at home where you’re comfortable, okay?” She adds on, feeling him nod again against her.

Connor lays back down, and Cynthia stays until he asks her to leave, which is over 20 minutes later.

She hovers just outside his room for a few moments, listening to his breathing and praying that somehow the happiness in his eyes will return.

—

The last place Zoe feels like being is in a meeting with the organization.

She really just wanted to go home, maybe hear about how Connor’s therapy went that afternoon. She assumed he hadn’t been hospitalized when she doesn’t receive a text from anyone, but that doesn’t stop her mind from racing, worrying that maybe they hadn’t had time to text her, that Connor was really doing a lot worse than any of them realized.

“Zoe?”

Zoe’s head snaps up, finding everyone in the room looking at her, their expressions a mixture of concern and worried. “Sorry, were you talking to me?” She asks, Alana’s face softening as she sighs.

“We were,” She nods, although Zoe notes that she doesn’t seem annoyed. “But, there’s something that we wanted to ask you.”

Zoe nods, straightening herself in her seat and running her fingers through her hair. She tries to focus, tries to give them her undivided attention when she knows they deserve it.

Her eyes glance at her phone resting beside her every few seconds, wondering if it was going to ring.

“So, Mrs. White got an email earlier today about a suicide prevention event in the area,” She begins. Zoe’s heart immediately beginning to race. “They want us to have a table there, talking about how we’re reaching out peer to peer to talk about what’s bothering all of us, but they also talked about one of us maybe making a speech.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence in the room, and Zoe doesn’t have to be a genius to know what question is coming next. “Do you think Connor would want to give a speech?”

Zoe’s head falls, and she thinks she can hear Mrs. White saying something to her. She just shakes her head, taking a deep breath and looking back around the room.

“I’ve um, I’ve stayed silent the last few days, but you all know that Connor hasn’t been here,” She begins, praying that Connor doesn’t kill her for telling her friends about his struggles. She knows Mrs. White already knows, but seeing her sympathetic smile form the corner of her eye just makes Zoe more aggravated.

“Connor hasn't been back at school since those first few days after break because he’s had a setback. He’s had a string of bad days, and today they’re working on figuring out what’s going on with him, getting him back on track. No more um, no more attempts from him, but like, negative thoughts.”

Alana nods. Jared’s head falls, and Evan’s leg bounces even faster than normal, if possible.

“I’m not saying that it’s a no, but like, if I asked him right now it would be. Maybe he’d want to talk about recovering from a suicide attempt, but maybe not. So we should probably have a backup plan in mind because I really don’t know if he’s going to agree to it.”

“That’s completely fair,” Alana nods, as if her saying anything else would magically change Zoe’s answer. “Just let us know? Also let us know how he’s doing. Obviously his mental health is the most important.”

Zoe nods, deciding not to add any other comments.

She decides maybe keeping the conversation is too much today. She’d rather just sit in silence for the last half hour of their meeting, telling herself that somehow this organization is helping people.

—

Evan’s leg bounces methodically to the music in the passenger seat of Zoe’s car, the two of them on the way home from school. Normally they would hang out, doing homework or answering questions on the blog until Zoe has to go home for dinner.

Today Zoe’s just dropping Evan off at his house, because right now she doesn’t think being away from her home right now is the right idea.

Evan understands, really. He actually prefers that she goes home to be with her family and not with him. He’d feel like he was pulling her away from what’s most important to her right now, which was her family.

She pulls into his driveway, shifting the car into park and turning to look at him. “I’m sorry we can’t hang out today,” She says quietly, reaching out to grab his hand. “I just, I’ve been a shitty sister to Connor the past few days, and I should probably be home today to make sure he’s okay, you know?”

Evan nods quickly, squeezing her hand. “N-no, yeah. He needs you, um, he needs you more? We can uh, we can hang out tomorrow or whatever,” He nods, smiling back at Zoe when she smiles back at him.

She leans over to kiss him, and quietly Evan slips out of the car, grabbing his thing and walking towards his front door.

He stands on his front step until she’s long down the road, out of sigh and on her way back to her own house.

—

Zoe slips inside the front door, only becoming more uneasy when she doesn’t hear the TV on in the living room. Her mom’s car was in the driveway, and with it barely being past 4 Zoe isn’t expecting her dad home for at least a few more hours.

It doesn’t stop her from thinking that something happened to Connor.

She toes off her shoes and hangs her bag up, moving quietly into the kitchen. She’s never been happier to see Cynthia standing there, putting something into a pot for dinner that night.

Zoe doesn’t want to ask what it is.

“Hey, Mom,” Zoe says softly, moving towards the pantry to find something to eat. She closes the door, coming eye to eye with her mother, a small smile on her face.

Zoe can’t remember the last time she’s looked this exhausted.

She’s been crying, Zoe knows she has. She can tell by the way her eyes are slightly bloodshot, and by the mascara that seems to be smudged on the corners. Zoe thinks about saying something, but decides against it when she thinks it’ll only make her mom upset again.

“Hi sweetheart,” Cynthia says softly, her voice quiet and dry. Zoe sighs, desperately telling herself that the fact that they’re home is a good sign that things are okay. “Did you have a good day? Your meeting after school was fine?”

Zoe nods, opening the package of crackers and pulling one out. She’s not really hungry, but right now she can’t think of anything else that would just make this all less awkward, and so she takes small bites. “It was good. I’m starting to get more homework now that we’ve been back a few days,” She shrugs, looking towards the door where her bag is hung. “The meeting was okay. I mean, it could’ve been better, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.”

Cynthia nods.

Zoe decides against telling her about the suicide prevention event they had discussed.

There’s a pause in the room, the question lingering on the tip of Zoe’s tongue. She’s almost afraid of asking it, but she’s more afraid of the answer she’s going to receive from her mother.

She’s also worried she’s going to start crying again.

Cynthia emits a deep breath, putting the pot on the stove and turning the burner on. She pauses her motions when she hears Zoe’s voice cut through the room.

“How is Connor?”

For a moment, everything is still. Zoe thinks she can hear him upstairs, but quickly diverts her attention back to her mother when she turns to look back at her.

“He’s okay,” She finally says, which doesn’t feel like the right answer. “Dr. James increased his dosage on his medication. Not much, but enough that we should see some changes in the next few days or weeks.”

“So no hospital?"

Cynthia shakes her head. “He doesn’t think he needs it since we’re not changing the type of medication, just the dosage. But, we do have to keep an eye on him more.” Cynthia pulls her lips into a thin line, letting her head fall slowly. “Your brother…” She pauses, unsure on if she should even share this with her 16 year old daughter. “Your brother has been having increased suicidal thoughts.”

Zoe rests her hand against the cool granite. The blood drains from her face.

“He assured Dr. James that he had no intentions on acting on them, but they’ve crossed his mind more than they normally do. Enough to scare him.”

Zoe nods. She doesn’t know what to say.

“He’s in his room right now, but he’s going to have to come down in a little while. Dr. James stressed that it’s important he’s not alone too much throughout the day.” Cynthia pauses, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. “I know you’re far too young, you shouldn’t have to deal with this, but Connor seems to really trust you. And if you could help your father and I out with just keeping an eye on him, oh Zoe, we’d be so grateful.”

Zoe nods, letting a shaky breath leave her lips. “Of course, yeah.”

Because why wouldn’t she?

Zoe lets Cynthia hug her, and when she pulls back, Zoe looks around the kitchen. “So, where is Dad?”

Cynthia sighs. it’s not a sad sigh or one out of frustration, it’s just…confusion, really. Zoe feels bad for asking.

“He had to go back to work for a meeting after Connor’s appointment. Said he’d be home early, but right now I’m not sure if that’s going to be the case or not.”

Zoe nods, glancing towards the clock. “I wish he would’ve just canceled the meeting. Connor needs him.”

Cynthia gives a half-hearted smile to her daughter, nodding. “You know how your father is with all of this. It’s hard for him to understand, and I think him throwing himself into his work is the only thing he knows how to do when we’re faced with a difficult patch.”

Zoe sighs, agreeing quietly before mumbling something about going upstairs to work on homework. She grabs her bag from the front door, climbing the steps and pausing outside of Connor’s room, mostly to check on him.

She tries to tell herself she’s not checking to makes sure he hadn’t found anything to kill himself with.

“Hey,” She says, her hands firmly grasped around the straps of her backpack. Connor looks up, but doesn’t say anything. “Do you um, do you care if I do homework in here?”

Zoe cringes. She knows how awkward that sounds, how she had made it completely obvious she was doing it so he wasn’t alone.

Connor just shrugs, but Zoe notices he looks relieved. “Sure,” He mumbles, and so Zoe sits down at his desk, pulling her homework out and beginning to work silently.

“Do you think I’m going to be okay?” Connor asks after a while, looking up at the ceiling. Zoe turns back to look at him.

“What do you mean?”

Connor sighs, twisting a string from his hoodie around his finger. “Like…do you think I’ll ever feel okay again?”

Zoe sighs. She doesn’t know how to answer him, not when it’s a question like this.

“I hope so,” She concedes, which really doesn’t do anything to help Connor. “You deserve to be happy, Connor. This bad patch won’t last forever. The doctors are going to figure it out.”

Connor nods, sighing as he stares at the ceiling.

Zoe finishes the rest of her homework in silence, her mind distracted by all the thoughts about her brother getting worse, and how she feels like there’s nothing she can do that’s going to make him feel better.

She decides it’s the worst feeling in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things will start taking a turn, but like i said i wanted to keep it as realistic as i could with relapses and not just all smooth sailing.
> 
> honestly you're all probably so annoyed because i sound like a broken record but! truthfully thank you so much for reading/commenting/leaving kudos. i don't think i'll ever like? not be shocked that you guys actually like this haha.
> 
> you can come talk to me if you'd like on tumblr! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> more on friday! :)


	36. thirty six.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Alana and Connor talk, and Connor surprises Zoe.

Connor returns to school almost a week after he had first started missing, feeling slightly better about the increase in his medication dosage and an extra therapy appointment with Dr. James. Zoe glances at him at every stoplight until Connor tells her to stop, which is when she stares straight ahead and grips the steering wheel so hard her hands hurt, but it stops her from looking at him or saying anything.

“You can always call Mom if you feel worse again. You know she’ll let you come home early,” Zoe says, pulling into the school parking lot.

“I’m not going home,” Connor says, picking at the string on his jeans. “I already missed a week, I can’t just miss more school.”

Zoe sighs. “I have jazz band after school. Mom is picking you up so you don’t have to go home on the bus.” She pulls into the spot, looking at Connor. “Just…if you’re having a bad time please tell one of us. Connor, I don’t want to worry about you, but I can’t help it.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. You have no reason to, so then don’t.”

“I can’t just not.”

Connor shrugs. “Yes you can.”

Zoe shuts the car off, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Fine, Connor. But just know that I’m there for you, okay? Like…whatever,” She shakes her head. “You don’t care.”

Connor slips out of the passenger seat, staring at her over top of the car. Zoe almost gets her hopes up that he’s going to say something, but then he throws his messenger bag over his shoulder and walks ahead of her, not even bothering to say goodbye.

She hates how much it bothers her.

“We saw Connor walk in ahead of you, is everything okay?” Alana asks when Zoe meets them outside of her locker.

Zoe shrugs. "I don’t know, he’s in a bad mood or it’s a bad day or something. Nothing I say helps him, you know? So I gave up. If he wants to talk he’ll come to me, and if not, well, then I can’t worry about it.”

Everyone seems surprised by her demeanor to her brother. None of them bring it up.

The rest of the morning feels as normal as possible, and as the homeroom bell rings and Zoe reluctantly walks with Evan, she leans forward to kiss him.

“Everything is going to be fine,” Evan mumbles, leaning forward to kiss her again. It’s the most confident he’s sounded in a long time, but Zoe has trouble believing it.

She nods anyway. “I’ll see you at lunch?” She asks, Evan nodding quickly as they part ways so he can make it to his homeroom.

All Zoe thinks about during the announcements is Connor, wondering if he even showed up to his homeroom after he stormed off that morning.

—

Alana has always been one to arrive to class early. She hates being late, likes having time to get her things out and get situated, finding herself ready to go when the teacher begins. She’s always been known to be the most organized person in all of her classes, all while juggling a million things.

Today Connor stalks back into class, his head down and his shoulders rounded. He sinks into the chair next to Alana just like he always does, his head falling to rest in his arms for the few minutes he has before class starts.

Usually Alana leaves him alone, lets him talk to her first if that’s what he wants. But today is his first day back in almost a week and she wants to make sure he at least feels like he’s going to keep up with the class.

It’s her lame excuse to get to talk to him.

“Hey, Connor, it’s nice to have you back,” Alana says quietly, trying not to draw attention from any of their other classmates.

Connor turns to her, parting his eyes and sighing. “Yeah,” He mumbles, which doesn’t really feel like the answer he should be giving her, but she doesn’t press it.

They fall into an awkward silence, because Connor doesn’t seem like he wants her to talk to him and she doesn’t really know what to say other than how much he’s missed, which isn’t going to make him feel any better. So she bites her lip, turning back to write a few things down in her planner.

“I know we’ve barely talked, but I kind of understand what you’re going through. A lot more than I’ve let on, I mean,” She says quietly, lifting her head to look at him. “Maybe here isn’t the best place to talk about it, but if you wanted to, maybe we could meet up somewhere?”

She forces herself to keep eye contact with him. She’s expecting him to leave the room or curse her out, which both don’t really seem like what she wants. But he doesn’t, and instead he shrugs and rests his head in his hands. “Meet me by the bathrooms right before lunch. We can talk about it before we go,” He says, and Alana tries not to act excited.

“Okay,” She nods, giving him a smile.

Connor tries to smile back. “Please don’t tell Zoe, though. I don’t want her to know.”

Alana’s smile falters, but she nods again. “Okay, that’s fine,” She agrees, and before either of them can say anything else class is starting.

—

Alana doesn't know why she feels so nervous about going to meet up with Connor in the hallway. She’s known him since grade school, and although he definitely wasn’t a nice person, at least not in the last few years, she had never been scared of him.

She can’t help but think of the crush she had on him in the 7th grade. Back when he would make jokes about the books they were reading, and he was almost charming.

Now she doesn’t think she could ever have a crush on him. Not because he’s Connor, but because she’s friends with Zoe now, and she doesn’t think Zoe would appreciate it.

Connor's leaning up against a row of lockers, his phone in his hand and headphones in his ears. He looks up when Alana stops just in front of him, yanking the headphones out of his ears and shoving them into the pocket of his sweatshirt. “It’s cold out, but we could go outside and talk if you want?” He offers, and Alana just wants to know why he’s so willing to talk to her, why he cares about what she has to say.

Alana nods quickly when words fail her, and silently the two of them walk out to the front of their school, where a few groups of guys were braving the chilly air and the constant threat of snow in the Winter months to eat their lunch outside.

Connor pulls his sweatshirt closer to him. Alana crosses her arms across her chest. “So this might be awkward, but I understand what the bad days feel like, or at least to an extent,” Alana says, standing in front of Connor as he leans up against a wall. “I don’t know much about your bad days or what you do when you’re not feeling well, but like, I know what it’s like to feel so… _invisible_. To feel like maybe people don’t care about you and no one would care if you just disappeared.”

Connor is speechless. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you sure you know how that feels?” He asks.

Alana smiles, nodding quickly. “I don’t really tell, well anyone. Jared and Zoe don’t even know. Evan knows a little, but not this much.”

Connor places his hand over his heart. “I’m honored you decided to tell me,” He says, smiling when Alana laughs at his lame attempt at a joke.

It just feels…like a friendship Connor thought should feel like. Like maybe he wasn’t so bad at forming a connection with someone.

“Anyway,” Alana smiles, bouncing from foot to foot. “I just thought that maybe if you wanted someone to talk to you could always talk to me? I know it’s probably not going to help much, but I do understand, maybe more than anyone else does.”

Connor sighs. “You know what it’s like to want to kill yourself all the time? To want to try.”

Alana’s breath hitches in her throat. “Alana, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t um, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Alana holds her hand up, shaking her head quickly. “No, no, you’re fine,” She assures him, but it’s not convincing and Connor just feels awful that he’s done this to this girl who really only had the best intentions. “I mean, I’ve never acted on it, like I’ve never tried to kill myself. But the thoughts have been there, and when they got really bad my parents shoved me into therapy and demanded that I get put on all these meds that made me look normal in their eyes,” She shrugs, running her fingers through her braids.

Connor nods. “I mean, at least they tried to get you help? Let you start on meds?” Connor offers, sniffling as he runs his fingers through his own hair.

Alana shrugs. “I mean, I guess so,” She agrees, looking around at everyone beginning to eat their lunch. “We can talk about this more later if you want, but maybe we should go eat lunch before we run out of time.”

Connor shrugs. Alana figures he probably won’t eat anyway. She walks towards the front entrance, opening the door and holding it for him as they walk back inside, making their way into the lunchroom.

“Hey Alana?” Connor says just before they get to their table, Alana turning back to look at him. “Thanks for um, telling me. I know that probably wasn’t easy.”

Alana smiles. “I figured maybe if it’d help you get through this and realize you’re not alone you’d feel a little better,” She smiles, and Connor manages to give her a small smile back.

“Were you guys outside?” Zoe asks as they slide into their seats at the table, both of them going to pull out your lunch.

“Just for a few minutes. I had something I wanted to tell Connor about class and figured maybe out there was a little more private than an echoey hallway,” Alana shrugs, glancing at Connor.

He mouths thank you to her. She smiles.

Zoe looks uneasy, but shrugs and watches Connor pull out his sandwich. “You better not get sick now that you were out there in a thin jacket. Mom will be annoyed,” Zoe mumbles, watching her brother roll his eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” He insists, taking a small bite of his sandwich.

Zoe sighs, but drops the subject completely.

She’s only slightly relieved when Connor manages to participate in the conversations around the table during lunch, leaving the cafeteria looking a lot better than he did that morning.

She guesses it’s a small victory.

—-

Zoe had resigned herself to the fact that Connor wouldn’t be at her jazz band concert.

She wasn’t surprised, not at all, actually. She can’t remember the last time he came to one, anyway, and if she’s being honest at the beginning of this year she hadn’t been getting her hopes up that he would show up anyway. He never does, and she never thought that their relationship would be where it’s at today.

Where it’s better and they’re talking and they’re…they’re almost close again. Zoe didn’t think that was possible for them, that they would make amends and be the civil siblings that they used to be.

Which may be what hurts the most when she thinks about her brother not coming to her concert now.

In all fairness, she hadn’t asked him. She hadn’t even talked about the concert at home, not with Connor in the room. She didn’t ask him if he wanted to come or if he was going to tag along, and maybe that was partly her fault as well.

But when she walks on stage and finds her parents sitting just near the front, her eyes scan to next to her mother, where Connor is sat, slumped in the auditorium chair.

Her smile only gets wider.

Connor plays on his phone for a few minutes, Cynthia glancing at him. “I think it’s nice you came for your sister, Connor,” She whispers, and Connor glances up to roll his eyes. “Con,” She says, but there’s a smile on her face and Connor knows she isn’t upset.

“I just don’t see why this is a big deal? It’s just a concert, would she really care about me being here that much?”

Larry leans forward, looking around his wife to his son. “Connor, when she walked on stage and saw you sitting next to Mom her face lit up. I think this means more to her than you could realize,” He says, and Connor just nods.

He feels wildly uncomfortable. Going to his sister’s concert should’ve just been a given over the last few years.

But. It wasn’t. And now he’s being applauded for doing something he should’ve been doing for years.

He doesn’t have a chance to say anything to his parents before the lights go down and the concert is beginning, and Connor just watches.

They’re not bad, he decides, but his focus is trained on Zoe, who’s sat on their side of the stage playing her guitar as if she’s a professional, and Connor is impressed.

He’s always heard her practicing in her room. He’s always known she was talented, and while he would never admit that hearing her play guitar in her room was calming for him over the last few years, seeing why she had been practicing so much made it a little more worth it for Connor.

He almost doesn’t want the concert to end, but the lights go up and the musicians begin to shuffle off backstage again, and Connor sits up and looks at his parents, who are shrugging their jackets back on.

“She’s really good,” Connor says, sitting forward to grab his own jacket.

Cynthia turns back to her son, smiling. “She is,” She agrees, and Connor stands up in wonder.

“No, like, how did I not know she was that good?” He asks, Larry smiling. “I didn’t think I was going to like this, but like, I did?”

“Well, now you can say you’ve seen her and tell her how good she is. I’m sure she’d like that,” Larry says, resting his hand on Connor’s back as they walk back up the aisles of the auditorium, making their way into the lobby to wait for Zoe.

Connor leans against the wall in between both of his parents, doing his best to not be seen by any of his classmates. It’s not that he thinks they’ll say anything or do anything to him, it’s more that he just doesn’t want to make eye contact with them, doesn’t want it spreading around that he cares about his sister and he shows up to her things outside of school.

Which. Doesn’t make sense. But he doesn’t care, at least not tonight.

“Hi guys,” Zoe says, and Connor looks up to see Zoe walking towards them, the smile wider on her face that Connor doesn’t think he’s seen in years.

“You were wonderful, sweetheart,” Cynthia smiles, pulling her daughter in for a hug. Zoe moves to hug Larry as well, who congratulates her.

She then looks at Connor, her smile faltering slightly when he looks back at her. He rolls his eyes, a smile creeping up on his own face as he holds his arms out.

And Zoe hugs him. A bone crushing hug that has Connor stumbling back now that he’s slightly weaker, Larry’s arm reaching back to support him. Both parents are smiling, and Larry looks at his wife and swear he sees tears in her eyes.

“Thank you for coming,” She smiles, pulling away and looking at her brother.

She just looks so sincere and happy that he’s there, and Connor has to pinch himself to just not cry at it.

Larry ushers the family out to the car, Zoe driving home alone. Connor doesn’t want to be alone with her right now, not when he’s trying not to cry about how appreciative she looks that he bothered to put in minimal effort.

She’s home by the time they’re home, saying a quick goodnight and making her way upstairs to finish up her homework that she had to stop when she left. Connor turns back to his parents, who are sitting down and turning on the TV for a little while.

“I think I’m going to go shower. I’ll be back down to say goodnight,” He promises, the two of them nodding as Connor turns and makes his way upstairs, stopping just outside of Zoe’s room.

She’s changed into her pajamas now, her laptop open as she sits on her bed. He thinks about walking away, but she looks up and sees him there and smiles, and he knows he can’t leave.

“I just wanted to tell you that you’re um, you’re really good?” He says, and he imagines he looks as awkward as he feels. “Like in jazz band. I didn’t…I didn’t know you were that good,” He says softly, and Zoe smiles.

“Thanks,” She says quietly, looking back at him. “It really means a lot that you came, Connor. You didn’t have to.”

Connor shakes his head. “I’ve fucked up so much the last few years. The least I could do was come to your concert.”

Zoe nods. “Evan said he saw you there and he texted me, and don’t take this the wrong way, but I didn’t believe him?” She explains, relieved when Connor smiles.

“I mean me being at school after school hours for a jazz band concert is pretty unbelievable,” He agrees, surprised when Zoe laughs.

“But I saw you sitting next to Mom and I was just, I was happy to see that you came. And knowing you liked it? It’s like it’s Christmas all over again,” She teases, Connor rolling his eyes.

“Okay, well I’m going to go shower, you can stop being weird about all of this.”

Zoe nods, looking back at her brother. “Okay, but it really does mean a lot that you came,” She insists, smiling when Connor just rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.

He leaves her room without another word, and in the distance Zoe hears the shower turn on.

Her brother had made so much progress in just a few months and it’s all a lot for her to deal with, but she’s also just so grateful.

Because if there was one thing that she wanted in her life it was her brother starting to do things other than laying around the house, having him compliment her after attending her jazz band concert was definitely one of those things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things aren't totally better, but they're getting there! :)
> 
> thank you so much for reading/commenting/leaving kudos :) i'm so sad we're so close to the end, but! i've been working on a quick 5 chapter fic (i say quick but the chapters are super long and i'm super excited to post it omg like unnaturally excited) AND i've been working on a longer fic like this one so! i'm still going to be posting things, just not this :)
> 
> you can come talk to me on tumblr if you want! for-f0rever.tumblr.com
> 
> more on tuesday! :)


	37. thirty seven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where things are getting better, and Connor opens up to his family.

Connor doesn’t know when going to the organization meetings became comfortable for him. He thinks it’s somewhere after his medications are adjusted and he starts feeling like a human again, wondering if the sudden burst of energy is because he has a medication that’s helping him _live_ , not just sinking him back into a position where he’s barely able to stay afloat on most days.

Now he sits next to Zoe in meetings and he answers the questions that they think are appropriate for him, and it’s so far from where he was in September that he even has to remind himself it’s the same person.

Zoe can tell he’s a little out of it at this meeting, not being as responsive with ideas to kick around at their next group meeting with students, which seemed to be going over much better than anyone had anticipated. She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes wander to him every time he gives a short answer, trying to find a good moment to ask if he needed a break.

But then they begin working on questions and Connor reads one over her shoulder, smiling when he sees what it says. “I could answer that one,” He offers, and so reluctantly Zoe slides her laptop over, leaning in to watch him carefully write out an answer to a question that she thinks he may be the only one qualified for.

_I’ve been reading a lot about suicide survivors and how they’ve all agreed that it gets better once they get the help they need, but I can’t help but be skeptical. I feel like I’ve been stuck in a rut for months with no way out, and all I can think about is how much better I’d be if I just ended it. I don’t want to die, but I don’t see how anything in my life could get any better. I just don’t see how medication and a therapist could help me at this point. Do you really think that it does get better, or is it all just bullshit people tell me so that I stay alive?_

For a moment, Zoe thinks about ripping the computer out of her brother’s hands. She doesn’t think he’s in the right frame of mind to answer that, not after he just had his own medication adjusted after increased suicidal thoughts a few weeks ago.

But. She knows that pulling the laptop away will only cause a scene, and Connor would probably freak out and things would go downhill, and really it isn’t something she wants to deal with, not this afternoon when they’ve had a string of a few good days in a row.

So. She sits back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest as she watches Connor type and erase answer after answer until he’s satisfied with the one he’s written down.

She only begins reading when he sits back to read over his own answer.

_I know that my answer is most likely going to be bullshit to you, but I do really think it gets better. It’s been months since I’ve had my last suicide attempt, and while I’ve had relapses and setbacks in the last few months, overall things have gotten better. Relationships I thought could never be mended had gotten better, I’ve made new friends, which I’ve never done before, and getting out of bed most days doesn’t feel like a chore. Obviously the bad days are still bad and the suicidal tendencies didn’t just magically disappear, but they’re less frequent._

_I’m not saying that everything will be better magically once you start taking medicine and going to a therapist. I still have bad days, but there are so many good days that I wouldn’t have had if I wasn’t on medication and talking to a therapist. And while it’s important to remember that the only way you’ll get anything out of therapy is if you’re completely open about your feelings, I do think it’s worth a shot._

_Living is the best thing I could’ve ever done, and I would take a million bad days if it meant that I had two million amazing days with people who I never thought I could fix the relationship with or even form a friendship with._

_Maybe the first few weeks won’t feel any better, maybe not even the first few months. But when you start having good days and you can just see the beauty in life and how much you offer to the world, I really do think you’ll find that it’s worth it to stay alive. This isn’t easy for me to type, because months ago I wouldn’t have believed a word of it. I didn’t think I brought anything to the world, and there are still days where I feel like that. But there are also days that just make me realize that maybe there’s a lot more to life than those bad days, and maybe taking medication and talking to a professional isn’t the worst thing that could happen to me._

_So yeah, it does get better if you’re willing to work on it. And you should be so willing to at least give it a shot. A few months ago I would’ve laughed if someone told me to give it a shot at getting better, but truthfully, it’s the best thing I’ve ever done._

_\- CM_

“Connor,” Zoe breathes out, and Connor turns to look at his little sister.

He notices the tears in her eyes, but when she looks up at him she can tell that he’s getting emotional too. “What the fuck, you weren’t supposed to make me cry!” Connor laughs, sliding the computer over to Mrs. White before turning to Zoe.

He turns his chair, holding his arms out.

And. Zoe hugs him.

And he holds her as if they’re 8 years old again and they’re still best friends, and everything is okay. He can feel everyone’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t care. Right now things with Zoe are better than ever. And well, he doesn’t want to change that.

“I would deal with a million of your bad days if it meant that you felt like that on all your good days, you know,” She whispers, hastily wiping under her eyes.

Connor nods. He knows if he talks he’s going to cry.

“I don’t know how you’ve been so strong through this. How you just…how you just chose to live. Chose to let us help you get better, and let us in again after so many years of wanting to die and shutting us all out.”

And Connor sighs. He doesn’t want to talk about this, not here in front of their friends.

“I know,” He whispers, nodding as he brings a hand up to wipe away the tears. “I promise, I know,” He says again, and Zoe drops it.

She can take a hint that maybe this isn’t the place.

“Connor, this is one of the most thought out answers you’ve ever given. I’m going to go ahead and post it, okay?” Mrs. White cuts the silence, and Connor looks back at her, nodding quickly.

He figures that maybe if she hits post he can’t chicken out.

“Connor, there’s something that we’d like to talk to you about, something a little more serious than just answering questions online,” Mrs. White looks to the boy, and Zoe braces herself for all of this to go downhill. For her brother to freak out, and their string of good days to leave.

Which. Isn’t the highest of expectations.

But it’s Connor. Zoe can’t let herself think that this will go well.

Mrs. White look to Alana, who doesn’t look like she wants to talk about this, not right now. But she takes a deep breath and closes her laptop partly, looking across the table to Connor.

“There's a suicide prevention event that’s happening in a few weeks in the city, and they found out about our organization and what we’ve started here at school and asked us if we wanted to have a table up,” She begins, but Connor can tell there’s something more coming.

He really tries to stay calm. As in all the breathing exercises and thought processes Dr. James had taught him the last few months.

He doesn’t think it’s helping.

“They also asked if we’d like to give a speech before the walking part of the even starts.” And that’s when Connor’s breath hitches in your throat. “Obviously we can say no, or one of us could do the speech and talk about how we’re making a difference with the organization, but we thought maybe…maybe you would want to.”

The silence in the room is deafening, and Zoe just wants Connor to say _something_. Even if he lashes out, she just needs something to break the tension, let her know that he’s feeling _k_  about this.

“Can I have time to think about it?” Connor finally asks, pretending like he doesn’t see everyone in the room light up.

They had all figured he’d immediately turn it down.

“I mean, I’m not like, I’m not opposed to it, I guess. But there’s a lot of anxiety about it and I just think maybe I shouldn’t make a decision about it right now.”

Everyone nods. “Of course, Connor. You can have a little time to decide, but if you want to do it we should start drafting things just to make sure that you’re as prepared as you need to be,” Mrs. White smiles, and that alone feels like enough for Connor.

Like maybe things would be okay.

—

Zoe drops Connor off at home before going to take Evan home, the car filled with Zoe’s playlist and the two of them humming along. It’s comfortable, Zoe thinks, and although she longs for little moments like these with Evan all the time, she’s also grateful that they’re little special moments for the two of them, and not something that they take for granted.

“Things um, things went really well with Connor today?” Evan says when one song ends, reaching forward to turn the volume down slightly. “H-he didn’t get that upset about the whole suicide event thing.”

Zoe nods, but her hands stay gripping the steering wheel firmly and Evan wonders if he’s struck a nerve. “He’s just been…he’s had so many good days lately, and I’m constantly on edge that it’s just going to come to a screeching halt and he’s going to fall back into the old Connor where he’s barely there and we’re just barely getting by. I don’t want that to happen.”

Evan nods quickly, wiping his hands on his jeans as they inch closer to his house. “I-I think the new dosage is working? He um, he seems happier than before,” Evan says quietly, shaking his head. “I mean I _know_ he’s still going to have bad days, but like, maybe this is a good step in the right direction?”

Zoe gives him a smile, pulling into Evan’s driveway and shifting the car into park. “I hope you’re right. I hope the bad days stop being so frequent and this Connor is the Connor we can learn to live with. I just…I can’t get my hopes up,” She sighs, frowning slightly.

Evan nods.

He leans over, kissing her softly as he runs his fingers through her hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” He offers, and Zoe just seems so relaxed when she nods and leans forward to kiss him again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you,” She mumbles, Evan kissing her quickly before he mumbles a quick love you and slips out of the car.

Like always, Zoe watches Evan until he unlocks the door and is safely in the house before she leaves, making the drive back to her own house where piles of homework awaits her.

She can only hope that when she gets home that Connor is still the good Connor, and they’re going to have a good rest of the night.

—

Cynthia doesn’t want to jinx it, but the week of dinners they had been sharing had been the best week of dinners in months. Connor’s new dosage on his medication seems to be kicking in now, and although the bad days and moments are still evident and she doesn’t feel like Connor is back to that old Connor, it’s getting better.

It’s all they could’ve asked for.

She and Larry talk about it in hushed whispers after the kids go back upstairs to finish homework or shower, and even Cynthia is surprised at how well Larry is doing with everything.

She knows he doesn’t understand, knows he doesn’t know how to cope with the bad days or what to do for Connor most of the time, but he’s trying. He goes to the support group sessions every once in a while to hear the other parents and talk about all of his fears, and it may be the best thing Larry could have done for Connor.

Cynthia doesn’t think that Connor will ever be back to the normal Connor. She’s been briefed by Dr. James and all of his other doctors that there’s a very good chance that Connor will need depression and anxiety meds for years to come, if not forever. She’s okay with that, she thinks, because in a few years time when Connor is ready to leave the house she has faith that she’ll be able to trust him with taking care of his own medication.

Cynthia has accepted that the paranoia her son has about things people say or the actions that they do may never go away. Sure, they’ve gotten better, but they’re never completely gone. But Connor has been working so hard to deal with them and learn to cope with them, and maybe that’s what they needed to get better. Maybe that’s all Connor needed, was just to learn how to cope with everything so he can start feeling human again.

As she carries dinner out to the table and sees everyone in her family sitting there, her heart fills with pride. Because for the first time in months no one is in a bad mood or fighting, and they’re just going to have a normal conversation at dinner.

It’s all she’s wanted for years.

“So, did anything exciting happen at school today?” She asks, not surprised when both teenagers roll their eyes, Connor reaching for the vegetables in the middle of the table.

“Nothing happened at school,” He finally says, breaking the silence after Cynthia’s question. “But at the meeting after school I guess something happened.”

Cynthia watches Zoe share a glance with her brother, one that she couldn’t even begin to understand. Cynthia looks to Larry, both of them trying to tell the other to calm down and let whatever is going to happen, happen.

“They were talking about a suicide prevention event, and the event reached out and asked if we wanted to make a speech,” He begins, and Cynthia tries not to choke on her food. “They um, they asked me if I wanted to be the one to make it.”

Cynthia shares a glance with her husband, quickly shifting her attention back to Connor. “How do you feel about that? Do you want to do it?” She asks, fearing that maybe this wasn’t the right time to talk about it, that maybe Connor wasn’t ready to have a full conversation about it.

But to her surprise Connor shrugs, swallowing his bite of food and looking between his parents. “I don’t know,” He says truthfully, his voice quiet as he reaches for his water to take a sip. “I mean I’m sure hearing from someone who’s tried to kill themselves three times is a good thing, but like, I um, I haven’t been having good days?”

Larry nods. “You’re not sure if you’re in the right frame of mind to do it,” He says, and it’s everything Connor couldn’t form in his own mind that all he can do is nod. “Connor, there’s nothing wrong with admitting that. The fact that you’re putting your mental health first is a huge thing.”

“How do you feel when you think about standing in front of people talking about everything you’ve been through?” Cynthia asks, and maybe it’s a little more therapist-like than she wanted it to be. But she needs to get in her son’s brain, needs to hear how he’s feeling and what’s making him tick when he thinks about talking about it.

Connor fidgets, glancing up at Zoe as if she could read his mind and tell everyone how he was feeling.

She can’t. He knows that.

“I guess I’m pretty anxious about it,” He says, which seems like he’s trying to play down how he’s feeling. Because right now his heart is leaping out of his chest and he kind of feels like it’s getting harder to breathe, but he doesn’t say that. He doesn’t say how he’s feeling because he feels like that’s a step back in his recovery, another step in the wrong direction.

“I know people know what happened to me. I mean, maybe they don’t know I’ve tried three times, but they know I went to rehab and this last time was really bad. I missed a lot of school,” Connor shrugs, and with each passing word his voice shakes.

Cynthia thinks about cutting him off, telling him to breathe and that right now they don’t have to talk about this.

“But I’ve only ever really talked about everything with Dr. James, and like, the thought of hundreds of people hearing me is a little…it’s a little daunting.”

Everyone at the table nods, and for once they’re all surprised that Connor doesn’t freak out that it feels like they’re interrogating him.

“For what it’s worth, I think it’d be good for everyone to hear what you’ve been through,” Zoe speaks up, looking at Connor. “I mean, I _get_ why you’re anxious. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t be or whatever, but like, you’ve been through a lot. And like, I don’t know, maybe it’d be good for people to hear that you can get better.”

“Because you didn’t think I would?” Connor asks, but there’s no malice behind his words.

Zoe narrows her eyes anyway. Cynthia knows she needs to diffuse the situation.

“I think what your sister is trying to say is that maybe you showing people that you are getting better would be inspiring for them to stay alive and get the help they need,” She interferes, and Connor just nods.

He doesn’t believe that. No one really does.

He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to eat another bite of food before looking at his family, who still keep careful eyes on him. “I think I’m going to talk to Dr. James about it tomorrow,” He says, which may be the biggest step in all of this.

Cynthia tries to hide her smile.

“I like, I do want to do it. Or I think I do,” He shrugs, “But maybe he’d know how to deal with how anxious this all makes me better than I can.”

The family nods, and Larry looks over at his son, letting his smile be evident on his face. “Whatever you decide to do we’re going to support you, Connor. You just need to know that whatever you decide is what’s best for you and your recovery.”

And Connor nods, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he’ll be able to get through this.

With all of his family by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sad this is basically almost over! :( i've enjoyed writing/posting this so much, although i'll still be posting things so we have that to look forward to!
> 
> did you guys want the last two chapters this week, or stay on this schedule so it'll end a week from today? both chapters are done so it could go either way, but i'll let you guys decide!
> 
> i posted a side one-shot yesterday to this fic which is just connor/alana friendship if you'd like to read it! 
> 
> thank you for reading/commenting/leaving kudos/everything else! <3 
> 
> more on Thursday or Friday!


	38. thirty eight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Connor talks through the speech in therapy, and enlists his family for help.

For the first time in weeks, Connor walks into Dr. James’ office with something specific that’s been bothering him. He supposes that’s a good thing, that he’s willing to talk through his struggles and explain to Dr. James what’s going on inside of his brain.

He still isn’t sure it’s going to make him feel any better.

Connor fidgets with the sleeve of his sweatshirt as Dr. James sits down in his seat across from him, reading through the paper that Connor always filled out when he arrived for his sessions.

“So, you wrote down that you have an event that you want to talk about that’s happening in the future?” Dr. James asks, and Connor just nods.

He knows it’s his turn to talk, but at the same time, he doesn’t know if he can. His mouth suddenly feels like it’s filled with cotton, and swallowing is almost painful.  
He folds his hands together, sinking back into the cushions. “That organization that Zoe and her friends started at school got asked to come to a suicide prevention event. They apparently asked if we would want to make a speech at the event, and everyone in the group thinks that I would be good to make the speech if I wanted to,” Connor says quickly, his mind moving at a mile a minute as he stares at his lap.

There’s a pause, and Connor wonders if his words even made sense.

“I’m guessing you’re anxious about making a speech about surviving suicide?” Dr. James asks.

Connor nods.

“I _want_ to do it though,” Connor says, forcing himself to look up. “That’s what I don’t understand. Why do I want to do this, but then at the same time every time I think about doing it my anxiety manifests into this paranoia that I’m going to have something go wrong? If I was that scared shouldn’t I just say no?”

Connor knows why he gets paranoid about it. He knows that’s his mental illness, but sometimes he just doesn’t understand why it does that to him and not anyone else.

He really has to push down how agitated he feels when Dr. James gives a small smile.

“Connor, the fact that you’re conflicted about this at all is a big step. Do you think a few months ago you wouldn’t even considered making a speech like this?”

Connor shakes his head.

Because no, he didn’t. He never thought he’d even make it to a point where he just felt like maybe he was normal.

Dr. James takes a deep breath. “I think this is something you need to take one day at a time. You wrote down that you have 4 weeks until the event?” He asks, and Connor nods again. “That’s a significant amount of time to make even more progress, especially for where you are right now.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea if I do it then?” Connor asks, although he knows that he’s not going to get a straight answer.

“I think if you feel like you can do it and you want to do it, I’m not going to say no, that I don’t think you’re ready for this,” He says, which is more of an answer than Connor anticipated. “Connor, if you would’ve asked me this a few months ago when we first met I would’ve immediately said no, that you were not ready to talk about how you are a suicide survivor. Because back then you were not in the right frame of mind to talk about your struggles so openly and have strangers hear you.”

Connor sighs. “I do think I’m doing better now. Like talking about it isn’t as hard for me I don’t think.”

Dr. James nods. “And that’s why I think that if you want to do this, I think you’re ready for it and I do think it’ll be beneficial for you and everyone around you. That being said, would you feel better if there was another plan in place in case that day you feel like you can’t go through with it? Your mental health and wellbeing need to be what comes first in this.”

Connor contemplates it for a moment, looking up at Dr. James as he nods. “Maybe I could ask Zoe to write a speech too? I mean she’s never tried to like…kill herself. But she’s lived with me and she knows everything of what I went through, and so maybe if she had one ready and I knew that this didn’t all lay on me I’d feel a little less anxious?”

Connor taps his foot, watching Dr. James intently. “I think that’s a good idea. I want you to talk to her this week, ask her if that’s something she’d be willing to do for you. And if she doesn’t think she can, then we’ll talk about what to do from there next session.”

Connor agrees, and although the rest of the session seems to drag on and Connor can’t really take the anxiety he has over the whole event, he does feel like he’s in a better place. Like maybe his mind and body will all agree that him talking about things will agree that this will be a good thing for him to talk about, and maybe everything will be okay.

—

Connor is pretty sure he’s deleted more than he’s actually written, which is exactly how he thought writing a speech about his suicide attempts would go.

Zoe sits beside him, scribbling in her notebook as she tries to help him brainstorm ideas. She’s in denial that her efforts aren’t helping him in the slightest.

“Don't you have your own speech to write? You promised me that you would make one just in case I can’t do this,” Connor says, and Zoe rolls her eyes, pulling her laptop from the other side of the table to sit in front of her.

She opens up a word document, silently beginning to type. Connor’s jaw falls open, envious of the progress she’s making while he looks at the same three sentences and wonders if that’s even good enough to keep going off of. He doesn’t think it is.

“How are you just writing that so easily?” He asks, Zoe finishing her sentence before looking at him and shrugging.

“I don’t think this stuff is has hard for me to talk about. I don’t know, Connor. This is a big deal for you, but like, it’s not as bad for me,” She shrugs.

Connor’s more jealous than anything at this point.

Cynthia stirs the pasta before walking over to the table, sinking into the chair next to Connor. “Come on, Con, you can do this,” She says, patting the table in an effort to get him to focus.

He just groans, his hands hovering over the keys as if he’s unsure of what to type. “What do I even say? Hey, I’m Connor Murphy and I suck at killing myself? I tried three times but I survived and now I’m getting better?”

Cynthia and Zoe cringe. Connor frowns. “Sorry,” He mutters, but it doesn’t feel like enough.

“Connor, just talk about how you’ve been through this and you’re a suicide survivor. Talk about your hardships, how you’ve begun to overcome them, and what you’re doing now,” Cynthia says, abruptly changing the subject from her son’s poor joke. “You can share as much or as little as you’d like, whatever you think is going to make you feel most comfortable.”

Connor nods, and before he can second guess himself he just begins typing, not thinking about if it makes sense or if what he’s saying is too much. He’ll read over it later, he decides, but right now he just wants to get _something_ on the page to match Zoe’s progress and prove to himself that he really can do this, that this isn’t as hard as he’s making it out to be.

Cynthia stands up and continues cooking dinner, and Connor almost feels like he’s done when the front door opens and Larry is home from work.

“What are you two doing?” He asks, setting his briefcase down and leaving a kiss on his wife’s cheek.

Zoe looks up from her computer. “We’re writing our speeches for the suicide prevention event,” She says, and Larry nods, taking the seat next to Connor that Cynthia had just been sat in.

“How is yours going?” Larry asks, and right now Connor just wants to yell at him that it’s going horribly, that he can’t talk about how fucked up he is and he hates that he said he’d even give this a shot.

He shrugs instead. “I don’t know. I guess it’s not awful, but like, it’s not great either,” He confesses, and Larry nods. “I’m just like really anxious the more I think about it and I really just want to finish this so that I can not look at it for a little while.”

Larry frowns. “Connor, if you’re that anxious about it you don’t have to do it. We know we all said it’s a good idea, but we want you to feel okay doing it.”

Connor groans. That’s the one thing he had been hearing about the last few days, so much that he’s pretty sure he hears it in his sleep. He understood his mental health had to come first, but he also doesn’t want to give up on it, not when he’s come this close and he feels like he’s really close to making a major breakthrough.

Which. Is a lot easier said than done at this point.

“I know,” He says quietly, pulling at his hair gently before releasing it. “I just…I really think I _can_ do this. I just…this is really hard to write and I don’t want to give up on it. I…the anxiety will go away. Or I think it will, I don’t know,” He shrugs uncomfortably. “But I don’t want to give up.”

Larry nods, resting his hand on top of Connor’s. “If you feel like you can do it, then keep going. But it’s okay to take breaks. We’re a few weeks out yet,” He reminds him, and Connor manages to nod, pulling his hand away and continuing to type while he felt like his thoughts were still coherent.

He finishes his speech just before midnight, and then spends most of the night awake thinking about how awful it is and what would happen if he just like, died of an anxiety attack when he goes to talk in front of everyone.

—-

Since Christmas holidays, Alana, Jared, Evan and Zoe had all made it a point to have movie nights every Friday night. They rotated houses and who brought snacks, and although Connor was always invited, it was rare he attended anywhere but his own house. He was always exhausted at the end of the week, and Zoe can’t really blame him for not wanting anymore social interaction, even if it was with the people he was beginning to call friends.

“How is your speech coming along?” Alana asks in a break in movies. They had always made it a point to leave the organization out of their movie nights, but this was different. Because the event was in just over a week and Connor’s anxiety really hadn’t ever left, and Zoe was beginning to wonder if maybe he wasn’t going to do it after all, even after convincing everyone he could.

She shrugs, waiting until she’s swallowed the bite of her pizza before speaking. “It’s okay, I think. I mean, definitely suitable for if I have to make it, but I’m hoping I don’t. I just, I don’t think hearing from a sibling is exactly what this crowd expects, you know?” She says, and everyone nods around them.

“Has Connor said whether he thinks he can do it or not?” Jared asks, and for a moment Zoe doesn’t know how to answer that.

It’s been a constant thing in the Murphy household to _not_ talk about the speech. Cynthia watches Connor always get more anxious when they do bring it up, and the last thing she needs is him slipping away again. So they only talk about it when Connor brings it up, which evidently isn’t that much.

“He doesn’t really say yes or no. I know he’s talking about it in therapy and he really wants to do it, but he gets in his own way a lot with these sort of things, not that I blame him or anything,” She shrugs. “I think he’s going to end up doing it, but I don’t mind writing one too. Whatever makes him comfortable.”

“Well, whatever he decides to do he does know that we support him, right?” Alana asks, and Zoe nods quickly.

“We um, we don’t want him to feel like he has to do it. Because, because he definitely doesn’t. I mean, I um, I don’t know if I’d be able to…to talk about it,” Evan says, and Zoe knows that. Because all she can think about is how he had never told her about how much he struggled with his own demons, and she knows that talking in front of crowds isn’t something he would’ve ever done anyway.

“He definitely knows we support him,” She nods, leaning back against the cushions. “I don’t know, I’m more just proud that he’s even agreed to _trying_ to do this. Like, he would’ve laughed in my face if I asked him to do this months ago. It’s kind of just confirmation that maybe meds and therapy are working, and maybe he really is getting better,” She shrugs, and everyone around her agrees with all of that.

The conversation virtually cuts off there as they decide on another movie and turn it on, and Zoe finishes her pizza before leaning against Evan, intertwining their fingers.

Maybe things are difficult right now, and maybe Connor being so worried about all of it is exactly what they all thought was going to happen. But Connor is Connor and Zoe thinks that if anyone can push through the anxiety and figure out a way to make this speech, it’s going to be him.

Suddenly she has all the faith in the world for him, and maybe that’ll be enough to show him he can do this.

—

Cynthia and Larry had decided to have a movie night of their own, although it’s all but stopped when Connor walks into the family room, his laptop nestled in his hands.

“I’ve um, I’ve been thinking a lot about the speech and I talked to Dr. James about it again today, and he knows I can do it. I think I can too, but can you guys read it? Like tell me if it’s okay or if I shared too much? I um, I know sometimes I’m a little too forward.”

Cynthia watches Connor roll his eyes when she lights up, holding her arms out for his laptop.

She chides him for flopping on the sofa before shifting her attention back to the laptop now sitting on her lap in front of her.

And. She has to resist the urge to cry.

Because sometimes when she closes her eyes she can still see Connor laying in that hospital bed, IVs and monitors covering him, and she can remember him crying out in pain. She remembers the therapy sessions and all the trials that they’ve gone through, and she can remember how _bad_ it all was. How Connor would’ve rather just been dead and he didn’t think that they cared about him.

But now he’s sitting beside her, still focusing on getting better and being patient with his new dosage of medication, and things are looking up again. There are days where she insists she can see the light in his eyes, the happiness that was once there when he was a little boy slowly coming back. She never thought she’d see it, if she was being honest with herself. She didn’t know what she’d get back from Connor, but each day just felt like a gift.

And now he’s having them read over a speech that he plans to make at a suicide prevention walk and she just…she’s so _proud_ , although she could never tell him that because she knows he hates it. But now he’s thinking about helping people more than he has with the organization, and maybe all those bad days that they still experience make this moment absolutely worth it.

She passes the laptop to her husband through blurred eyes, and without thinking about how Connor’s feeling or if he’s even going to want to be touched she pulls him into her side, kissing the top of his head.

“I know this is scary and you’re nervous about it, but baby, that was one of the best speeches I’ve read, and I think you wrote everything so perfectly without sharing too much or being rude about your struggles,” She whispers, and to her surprise Connor holds her back. “And I know you hate hearing it and I know that it makes you uncomfortable, but Connor, I am so _proud_ of how far you’ve come these last few months, and how far you’re going. You know that, right?”

And Connor nods, resisting the urge to tell her to stop saying how proud she is.

Because right now he needs to hear it, needs to know that maybe everything he shared is something to be proud of. Like maybe if he hears it now he’ll start to believe it himself.

He doesn’t feel Larry stand up to sit on the other side of him, but his hand is firm against his back and it’s running through his hair, and Connor just…feels suffocated.

But in a good way, if that’s possible.

“This was so powerful and so well put, and I know you hate it and your mother already told you, but we are so unbelievably proud at how hard you’re working on this. How hard you’re working on getting better and how hard you’re trying to just…trying to use what you’ve learned and make a difference. You’ve come a long way, and you’re doing so well.”

And Connor cries. Hard, choking sobs, right into his mother’s chest as if he’s 4 years old again and he’s just fallen off his bike. But it’s not a sad cry, or one that says he’s in pain or he just needs everything to stop.

He’s just…he’s so overwhelmed that people are _finally_ seeing how hard he’s trying, and he’s so overwhelmed that maybe what he’s doing is the right thing, and somehow this is going to be okay.

Like maybe how hearing his dad say he’s proud of him is all he needed to know that he was making progress, was showing the effort. And maybe now he thinks he’ll be able to do this, knowing that his whole family supported him without a second thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only one more chapter! i am so sad about this, but hopefully everyone likes the way i've ended this :)
> 
> thank you so much for reading/commenting/leaving kudos/anything else! 
> 
> you can come talk to me on tumblr if you'd like! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> final chapter on tuesday!!


	39. thirty nine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when they go to the suicide event and things feel okay

Connor briefly wonders if maybe asking for Evan’s anxiety meds is something he can do.

He knows it isn’t, he knows that Zoe will get worried and tell their parents and then they’ll make him leave the event that he’s actually not having a horrible time at and tell him that he’s not ready to make the speech, when he’s spent all week practicing it in front of his parents and Zoe and even Dr. James at his extra appointment that he booked himself.

And. Well. That would just make all of this useless.

He sits down on the folding chair at the back of their booth, glancing at his phone. He has an hour until he’s up on the stage making a speech in front of people who have either survived or lost someone to suicide, and he really doesn’t know if the feeling of wanting to throw up is ever going to go away.

Zoe catches him out of the corner of her eye, her face softening. “Do you want a bottle of water?” She asks, and Connor looks up at her with these eyes that take her straight back to that night in the hospital where he _cried_ talking to her, and she’s scared.

Scared that maybe he's forcing himself to do something he’s not ready for, like maybe he wants to prove to everyone that he’s getting better, that he is making progress.

But they already know that. And she thinks he knows that, too.

Connor nods, and silently Zoe hands him a water bottle, which he drinks in about 30 seconds. “Con, breathe,” She says quietly, trying not to draw attention to them. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You don’t have to go through with this, I’m ready to do mine if you need me to,” She reminds him, but Connor just shakes his head.

“I think once I start I’ll be fine,” He says, trying to convince himself. “Or I could just start stuttering and make a fool of myself and everyone would just say that I’m a freak who shouldn’t have done this.”

“Connor,” Zoe cuts him off. Because he’s becoming paranoid again. It’s not something she’s not used to, because sometimes when his anxiety gets really bad he just starts getting paranoid that he’s slipping away again. But she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t worry when this happened. “Just take a deep breath.”

And Connor does. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to center himself. He doesn’t know if it’s helping, but it stops him from rambling and slipping into paranoia, and well, maybe that’s enough.

“You’re going to be fine,” Zoe reminds him, sitting on the cooler across from Connor. “No one is going to be judging you for whatever you say, and I can promise you no one is going to think you’re a freak.”

Connor nods. He still feels like his heart is beating out his chest and like he’ll pass out if he stands up, but it’s a little better and so maybe he can make it through this, maybe he will be okay.

“Do you think you need Mom?” Zoe asks, and she’s really not all that surprised when Connor shakes his head quickly.

“I’ll be fine. Just,” He pauses, chewing the inside of his lip. “Just give me a few minutes alone.”

Zoe nods, standing up and walking back to where Evan had been handing out pamphlets. Her eyes wander to Connor every once in a while, but she thinks he looks a little better and his breathing is less erratic and so she leaves him be.

Mrs. White walks over a little while later, smiling at the group. “We’re going to go get ready for the event. Connor, are you sure you’re ready? Or would you rather Zoe do this?” She asks, and Connor looks up, sighing.

“I can do this,” He says, and it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself more than anyone else. But Mrs. White just smiles and nods and before Zoe can get to Connor to make sure he’s really okay they’re walking towards the main event stage, and Zoe is shoving her own speech in her pocket just in case.

“Zoe, Connor!” Zoe turns back to see their parents walking towards them, and Connor almost looks relieved to see them. They’re both smiling and Zoe knows Cynthia has a pack of tissues in her bag, and really, things just feel okay.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Cynthia asks Connor, and she can’t resist running her fingers through his hair, fixing it. He doesn’t pull away, but he does look slightly annoyed and only shrugs uncomfortably, sighing.

“Just really nervous. But I’ll be fine, I can do it,” He says, and Cynthia nods while Larry stands behind them.

“Whatever happens today, Connor, we’re all really proud of you for doing this,” Larry says, and Connor cringes at that, but nods anyway.

Zoe doesn’t think Connor will ever like hearing that they’re proud of him, but right now this feels like the moment he needs to hear it.

Connor manages to calm down a little bit more before Mrs. White is calling them over, and they’re giving both of their parents hugs as they get some last minute good luck wishes. Connor takes a deep breath, looking into his mother’s eyes as she just gives him that smile that seems to calm him down, reminding him that it’s okay.

“You’re going to be fine, sweetheart. Dad and I will be right out there watching, and Zoe is right behind you if you need her,” She reminds him, her hands firmly on his arms.

Connor nods, hugging her quickly before following Zoe back up to the stage.

There are a decent amount of people here, but for some reason that doesn’t bother Connor. Zoe stands next to him and Alana is on the other side, and the constant banging of his heart against his chest seems to subside slowly. All the blood has rushed to his ears and he really can’t hear the introductions, but he’s being introduced and Zoe is squeezing his hand and all of them are giving him smiles of encouragement, and somehow his legs that feel like lead carry him to the podium.

He can see his hands shaking when he sets his speech out on the podium in front of him, and instinctively he takes a quick swig of water and a deep breath before stepping back forward, ready to begin.

“Good morning, everyone. My name is Connor Murphy and I’m a three time suicide survivor.” He takes a deep breath, as if saying that was going to be the hardest part. “While my first two attempts were significant and a part of my life that is still so prevalent now, it was this last attempt in September that really made me want to stay alive and prove to everyone that I could do this, that living was worth more than the pain I was going through.”

“In the moment, I thought that killing myself was the only option. I’m 17 years old, and as an angsty teenager who felt like my life was never going to get better, I thought that maybe the only way I could relieve my family of the burdens that I brought was to take my own life and let them be happier without me. And in some ways, I think that’s the way most suicide victims think. That people would be better off, that no one would care.”

“The depression, small bouts of paranoia, and anxiety that has filled my brain for the last few years are not an indication of who I am, but they did cause me to do some awful things to my family and friends. I was verbally abusive, I was a horrible person who pushed everyone away and didn’t know how to deal with things. There were days where I thought that if I didn’t hurt myself I was going to hurt someone else, and while it wouldn’t have been intentional, it certainly terrified me that I would hurt someone who didn’t really deserve it.”

He takes a deep breath, looking around the park at everyone listening. He spots his parents, and he can tell his mom is crying. It’s the first time he doesn’t blame her, because he’s pretty sure when he’s done he’s going to cry, too.

“Now, almost seven months after my most recent suicide attempt, I am better than I ever have been. A relationship I had thought I ruined with my sister is being repaired, slowly but surely. My parents, who I always pushed away, called them horrible names and did every other bad thing that I possibly could’ve done as a son, are supporting me all the way. Helping me cope when there are bad days, letting me get my anger out in ways that are healthy. I have friends, which I think is safe to say that it’s not something I had before. They’re patient and they understand that most of the time, I do need time.”

He takes another deep breath, another sip of water. He glances back to Zoe, who’s holding Evan’s hand and has tears running down her face, and he gives her a wobbly smile. He bites his lips until his own tears stop threatening to fall, and then turns around to face the crowd again.

“What I’m trying to say is, it does get better. And if you told me that years ago or even months ago, I wouldn’t have believed it. I wouldn’t have believed that I could change, that I could stop hurting the people I loved. But things are getting better, and maybe it’s not instant and it’s _really_ hard to just begin the recovery process and to tell yourself that you’re deserving of recovery and being happy and getting the help and medications you need, but it’s honestly the best thing that I’ve ever done.”

“Recovery is scary and truly the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It’s not perfect, there are relapses and bad days and medication changes that aren’t guaranteed to work, and most days I’m left with this overwhelming exhausted feeling that maybe I won’t ever be okay. But then I remind myself that my family is supporting me, and I have the most amazing friends who are understanding, and I am worthy of recovery.”

“I know there are people here that have lost friends or family members to suicide, and I’m so sorry for your loss. But know that you being here and you raising awareness for suicide may just be what saves someone else. And to those here who are trying to recover and get yourselves the help you need, I am here to say that it can be done. You deserve the happiness, even if you’re like me and maybe think that you’re not worthy of it. There are better days ahead for all of us, and I believe that with time and faith and really hard work, we can do it.”

Connor thanks everyone for listening, and turns back, finally letting the tears fall. Zoe stands up, pulling him in for the tightest hug she can remember ever giving him, and he just. Cries into her shoulder.

Mrs. White gently guides them all off the stage when the other festivities start, and Zoe lets everyone hug Connor quickly before Zoe leads him to a little corner in the park, their parents walking over just as Connor desperately tries to compose himself.

But then he sees his mom crying and he just starts crying again and he lets her hug him. And his dad’s hand is in his hair that he knows Larry hates, and it’s all just. A lot for him to take in.

“You’re okay, Connor. It’s okay, you’re okay,” Cynthia soothes, rubbing his back as she holds her much larger son. “We are so, so proud of you. You did so well, sweetheart.”

And Connor nods, lifting his head from her shoulder and wiping under his eyes. And then his dad pulls him in for a hug and it just feels so foreign and safe at the same time, and Connor wants to cry all over again. But he manages to compose himself and just hug his dad back and think about how so many things have changed for him.

And then he thinks about how far he’s come, and how much has changed in the last few months. He knows there are days where he doesn’t believe it, but he is getting better. He’s had more good days than bad the last few weeks, and on the bad days he’s learning to reach out and ask for help instead of pushing people away.

It’s not easy, Connor knows that. He knows he’s not out of the woods, that this is going to be a constant process to get better and figure out medications and just let people in when he feels like he can’t. But he has his family back, and they can see how hard he’s trying, and maybe that’s what he needs.

He looks at his family, who all have tears in their eyes and just look so proud that they’ve gotten here, and he knows that it hasn’t been easy. That they’ve been through a lot, too, and they’ve seen him at his worst but they’re still _trying_. And that’s all Connor’s ever wanted.

He looks at them, giving them a wobbly smile as his eyes are bloodshot and he still feels like he could just sob for hours. “I’m going to be okay. We’re going to be okay,” He says, and all of them nod.

Connor is positive there’s more bad days ahead of him. There’s probably even more relapses in his future, if he’s being totally honest. But he does know that he can get through them all. He can find a way to keep getting better and working on himself, and maybe even one day he’ll look back on these scary and lonely days as a teenager and wonder if he’s the same person that went through them.

He can’t wait for that day to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS OVER I'M SO SAD.
> 
> thank you so much for everyone who's read this/left a comment or kudos/anything else. honestly i really didn't know what to expect when i started posting this, but i can tell you it definitely wasn't this omg. hopefully you guys enjoyed as much as i liked writing it!
> 
> i have a short 5 chapter fic (i say short but chapters are v long so! not all that short, just only 5 chapters haha) that i'm going to start posting either tomorrow or friday (i can't decide, so if you have a preference let me know) and then i'm writing a longer fic that i'll start posting after that! so i'm not going away now that this story is over if you'd still like to read my stuff :)
> 
> you can find me on tumblr if you'd like! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> thank you for reading! <3

**Author's Note:**

> chapters will be much longer in the future, this is just one to set it all up! as of right now the aim is to update every friday, but if that doesn't happen there will be at least one update a week :)
> 
> please let me know what you think! :)


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